After All: By K Baudelaire
by Laura V. Bleediotie
Summary: A decade after the end of ASoUE, Klaus believes he can find his sisters when a newspaper article reports a sighting of two of the infamous "Baudelaire Butchers". Is everything finally going to be normal for Klaus? {Now Finished!}
1. F o r g o t t e n

Hey everyone! This is my first fic here at fanfiction dot net, but I've been an ASoUE fan for quite a while. I'll try to update this story as often as I can, but it all depends on how many reviews I get and how much homework I have -grumble grumble- So anyway, thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I don't really see why we have to put disclaimers on out fics because this is FANficton dot net after all, so wouldn't everyone know we don't own the characters and such? I dunno... But anyway, I don't own the characters and such as I said before, they were all created by Lemony Snicket.

Well, without further ado...

After All

By K. Baudelaire

Chapter 1: F o r g o t t e n

In a certain dirty, busy city, probably not too far away from where you live, there is a certain restaurant. It is called "The Valentino Family Diner", and it is owned by the last of the Valentino Family. There are, in fact, only four surviving Valentinos out there: Tony, his wife Angelina, and their two children, who are somewhere in another certain city, probably trying to find jobs or certain missing people. What has happened to the other Valentinos, I don't know. The only thing that I do know and that you should know is that The Valentino Family Diner happens to be the place where this certain story begins.

If you had been there, that certain cold and snowy night, you would have seen a certain young man of about 23 years of age, open the door of the diner and walk in, his head tilted down in a sorrowful way, as if every reason why he should be alive had just been blown away with the winter winds. His round glasses were sliding down his nose and behind them you would have been able to see his sad blue eyes gazing down at the floor. If you had seen this man several years before, while he was still a boy, his eyes would have been wide and alert and very interested in the world around him. But now every thing noticeable in his world was gone, and if you had been there that certain December night, and seen this certain young man, you probably would have guessed that he had a very sad story to tell.

And if you had guessed this, you would have guessed right.

But I am sure you were not there that night; because I was there, and I know that the restaurant was empty, except, of course, for Tony Valentino his wife, and a certain young waitress I know very well. Tony was accustomed to the man's visits. The young man would always come on Tuesdays and order a cup of coffee, but he never spoke to Tony, and only spoke to the certain young waitress, and she made sure she was always at the restaurant on Tuesday nights, just in case he wanted to talk.

Occasionally, he came on busier nights, when the tables and the bar were very crowded, and others would call him "Twitch". Twitch never said anything to them, no matter how much they harassed him and bothered him about it, but they did notice how he had an odd twitch under his left eye. He would just sit there in his usual spot at a small round table with two small chairs and drink his coffee, but nobody knew how he got that twitch, because he wouldn't tell. Only one certain person knew, and only one certain person could sit in that other chair and hear him speak and that certain person was the waitress.

Her name was Isadora, and the young man's name was Klaus.

That certain night, not too long ago, was the type of night you don't forget easily, especially if you were Klaus Baudelaire. He had an especially acute memory, but a memory full of many unpleasant and painful things he wished to forget. And on that certain evening, when the winds were blowing hard outside and snowflakes were being viciously dragged with it, Klaus was remembering those certain things that hurt to be remembered. Sometimes he would close his eyes and try not to think of them, but they would always come back and force their way into his mind as if to say, "See? These are all the things that have happened to you. _And they were all your fault_."

And Klaus's eye would twitch.

And on that particular night Klaus was again massaging his forehead with one weary hand, trying to rub the memories away. And when he looked down, there was a mug of hot chocolate sitting on the table, still steaming with a warm, sugary scent that is so comforting on a night such as this one, and sitting on it was a fluffy gob of whip cream. Klaus looked up. There was Isadora sitting across from him, and she was wearing a sympathetic smile she always wore when she could tell he was feeling especially cold and tired.

"Bad day?" she asked gently.

Klaus sighed.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing," he replied. "No leads, no reports, no sightings...Nothing."

They were both silent for a while until Isadora spoke again. "Absolutely nothing?"

"Yes, Isadora. Absolutely nothing," Klaus answered, a little annoyed.

"Uh-huh..."

Klaus looked up. There was a certain expression on Isadora's face that he had seen before, but he hadn't seen it in a long time. It was the look she wore when she knew something he didn't. It was the look she wore when she felt like teasing him or driving him crazy. It was the look that consisted of a grin, an arched eyebrow and a twinkle in her eye that told Klaus that there was a joke centering on him and that she was going to have the last laugh.

Klaus sighed again. "Alright, what is it?"

"I'm disappointed in you Klaus," she said, while shaking her head and spooning a scoop of whipped cream into her mouth. "Here you say you're supposed to be some expert researcher and investigator but you completely miss some of the most obvious clues out there."

"What in Melville's name are you talking about?" Klaus asked.

Isadora continued with her little game as if she hadn't heard him. "Ok, you have been in the detective business for a while, and I understand how you have to make the search process look so complicated and mysterious, but, Klaus, you gotta learn to accept something when it's right in front of your face!"

She reached forward to take another scoop of whipped cream but Klaus pulled the mug towards him so she couldn't reach it. "Isadora," he said, beginning to loose his patience. "What are you saying?"

Isadora stood up from her chair to pick up some glasses and plates from another table. "Klaus. It's been everywhere. I think everybody but you knows now." She stopped to pick up the latest issue of The Daily Punctilio from the counter and dropped it in front of Klaus. "You've searched everywhere for years and you don't even bother to glance at the front page of the newspaper."

And there it was, in bold black ink, shouting at Klaus as he read it.

**Baudelaire Butchers**

**Gone Forever?**

Evidence suggests that the infamous murderers could still be at large.

Under the headline was a photograph of a tall woman. Her back was turned and she was running through a crowd, away from the photographer. She was also clasping the hand of a young girl who was trying to keep up with the woman's fast pace as they ran. She was staring back at the camera, or more at Klaus, and she looked quite scared.

Klaus's eye twitched.

"Yeah, I know what you're thinking. 'This is The Daily Punctilio, it can't be true.' But take a look at who wrote the article," Isadora said with a grin, piling the dishes on a tray.

Klaus glanced at the byline. "Written by Duncan Quagmire," it read.

"He checked his facts and only took reports from reliable sources. Duncan says he wants to try and convince at least a few people with his articles that you guys are innocent. Don't worry, he won't say too much about you, considering how you've finally managed to throw the police off your tail. Just enough to get people thinking," Isadora assured him.

"But if you aren't gonna believe the facts, just take a look at that picture. That's them all right. They're alive." She let out a brief laugh, remembering old times. "You know, like Mr. Snicket used to say: Words are not proof; photographs are. Right Klaus?"

Silence.

"Klaus?"

Isadora turned back to where Klaus was sitting to find that he was no longer there. His chair was pushed back from the table on which the hot chocolate was still sitting, the paper was gone, and the door of the Valentino Family Diner was swinging shut. And into the cold, snowy night Klaus ventured once more, only now there was a fresh hope growing in Klaus's heart, a hope that said that he was going to find his sisters if it was the last thing he would do.


	2. R e m e m b e r

Chapter 2: R e m e m b e r

Klaus sighed. All those years of trying to forget...

And now he had to remember.

He stood shivering in the dark, wintry air, partly from the cold, and partly from the fear of what he was going to do.

Before Klaus stood the ruins of a building. There was not much left of it. The wood had dissolved away over the past decade, and now all that was left were a few random objects that hadn't perished. Several doorframes were still standing erect, the ones that hadn't been constructed from a flammable material. The front steps were still there, but it was crumbling into a small waterfall of rocks and pebbles. The foundation was still holding up, but weeds and other assorted plants had grown around and in between the bricks and cracks in the cement. Pure snow blanketed pretty much everything though, and you never would have guessed that the local children were convinced that the site was haunted. And you probably never would have guessed that the place was one a stately mansion, a home to a family that seemed to have the perfect life. But somehow it all went wrong.

And it was all because of fire.

Klaus hesitantly approached the front stairs. After staring at them for a long time, he took one step forward. Snow crunched underneath his foot. Klaus took another step. And another. He then found the tips of his boots almost touching the bottom stair.

Klaus shut his eyes and took the last strides between him and the doorway. He didn't open them. The memories were returning.

"_Goodness, you three are soaking wet! Didn't we tell you to come back inside if it started raining?"_

His parents were standing in front of the charred brass doorframe. Only then it didn't look so burnt. Klaus's older sister, Violet, was standing in front of him, and he could feel little Sunny sitting in his arms, fiddling with his glasses. He could see them all, as clear as day, or as clear as superstitious children thought they could see the ghosts. They were all there. A family.

As long as he kept his eyes closed.

Klaus took another step forward and found himself entering a grand room, the parlor, where they used to welcome guests at dinner parties and hang up their coats. And then the room was suddenly bustling with people, talking and laughing, all of them dressed in their finest clothes. One of the dinner parties, of course.

And suddenly everyone disappeared, but Klaus kept walking.

A familiar feeling came over him. A feeling of safety and familiarity, a feeling that covered him with security and comfort, a feeling he knew well.

Klaus was entering the library.

He outstretched his arm. His hand made contact with the smooth surface of the iron archway that served as the entrance to his favorite room. Something else was coming back to him. Unfolding before him was a scene torn from his childhood. Around him were his parents, and Violet.

"_Wow, Klaus, it looks like you've grown a couple inches since we last measured you!"_

"_And see? He's an inch taller than Violet was when she was his age."_

"_I'm still taller than you now though, Klaus."_

"_Well, you just wait a few more years, he's going to be shooting up like a rocket not too long from now."_

The wall next to the doorframe. It had been their measuring chart. As time went by, small lines and names started to crowd into each other, marking the years and the memories.

Klaus walked farther into the library. He pictured himself next to the rows and rows of bookcases that housed the books he had probably spent years of his life reading. He could remember how he and his sister would take turns pushing each other on the bookshelf ladder, the one with wheels on the bottom so you could move from one end of the bookcase to the other while being able to reach the books on the top shelf. One of them would run as fast as they could while pushing the ladder as the other held on for dear life. Klaus could hear their laughter.

He opened his eyes. No, there was still no one there. The library was gone. Violet was gone. Everyone was.

Klaus turned around and once again surveyed the ruins. The iron doorway was behind him. He turned around and walked back through it, back towards the entrance.

Klaus kept his eyes open. He didn't want to see what he knew he'd remember next. He only heard the voices.

"_Hey kids, why don't you go to the beach today?"_

"_Alright,"_ Violet had said. _"When should we be back?"_

There was a pause. A pause Klaus hadn't noticed before.

"_You kids just have fun now. The trolley will be leaving soon, so hurry up and catch it!"_

Klaus slowly stepped down the front stairs, fitting each foot almost exactly into his old footprints in the snow. Something occurred to him. He stopped walking.

No "Be back before dark!" or "Come back when the streetlights turn on," or even a "Head home before dinner!"

They knew. Somehow they had known.

But how? Why didn't the save themselves? Why didn't they use the trapdoor under the rug? How come they weren't still alive?

Klaus broke into a brisk walk. He had to get back to his apartment, and then he could write. Words were building up in his mind, words that would soon spill out onto to typewriter paper, and become sentences. Sentences would become paragraphs, paragraphs would become chapters, and, by the time the journey that takes place over the course of this story ends, the chapters would form a book.

It started here, at the ruins of his home. And with all the years that had suddenly come back to him here...

Klaus wondered what he'd remember when he went to the beach the next day.


	3. The U n f o r t u n a t e Age

Two words: Please review! L.V.B.

Chapter 3: The U n f o r t u n a t e Age 

Klaus woke the next morning to find his forehead pressed into the typewriter's keyboard and figured he must have fallen asleep the night before while he was writing. An odd assortment of random letters had been typed on the paper. He guessed it must have happened when his head hit the keys.

He looked up and paused as he stared at the calendar. Sunny would have turned 13 that day. He sighed and hoped they would all be able to celebrate her birthday in the near future.

Klaus adjusted his glasses and rubbed his aching forehead thoughtfully. He had been trying to plan out the journey ahead of him. First he would go back to Briny Beach. He had only been there three times since the fire. The last time had to have been 10 years ago. It was always warmer near the ocean, so he would only need to bring a light coat now that it was winter. Then he would go down to Daedalus Dock to check with the crew of _The Prospero_ and find out if they had seen anything.

Klaus quickly pulled on some fresh clothes and grabbed his jacket. He felt more confident and determined as he walked out the door of his small apartment. There was business to attend to.

The beach was exactly as he remembered it. The air was moist and had a salty taste to it. Clouds made the sky gray and blocked out the sun you would have expected to find at a beach. Klaus and his sisters used to like going to the beach on days like this, when tourists stayed home and crowds avoided the outdoors, leaving the beach almost completely empty. It occurred to Klaus that he had never been to Briny Beach on a warm sunny day most people would have gone on. But, of course, that's what Klaus had learned represented this beach. Darkness and coldness. He didn't see it as an enjoyable place.

Klaus sighed deeply and slowly trailed the shoreline, letting the waves spill over his boots. He bent down, picked up a smooth rock and tried to skip it on the water's surface. The tide was too strong. The waves just pushed it back towards him.

Klaus tilted his head to the side as he stared at the rock. They had much in common, in this case, he thought. Trying to get somewhere but constantly being pushed back, for one reason or another.

Klaus kept walking.

"_I'm afraid I have some very bad news for you children."_

Klaus jumped and whirled around. Before him was a mysterious figure emerging from the fog.

"Mr. Poe?"

"_Your parents have perished in a terrible fire."_

Klaus's heart did a flip-flop. He was reliving the moment.

His eye twitched.

"_They perished in a fire that destroyed the entire house. I'm very, very sorry to tell you this my dears."_

Klaus continued to stare.

"'_Perished' means 'killed,'"_ Mr. Poe explained.

"I know what perished means," Klaus mumbled.

He kicked sand at the figure and turned around when it disappeared. He glared at the sea foam as he walked. He couldn't stand being here any longer.

Klaus headed back towards the road to hail a taxi that would take him to Daedalus Dock.

The dock was much more crowded than Briny Beach, and, even after the years, he still felt a bit paranoid in crowds. He was afraid someone would suddenly point at him and say, "Look! It's one of those Baudelaires! Arrest him!" although Klaus had tried to convince himself that it should never happen. Tourists were leaving to get home for Christmas, while some local residents were leaving to visit relatives for the holidays.

Klaus paused and tried to remember last year's Christmas. Nothing special, he recalled, as usual. He and Isadora met at the Diner and exchanged gifts. Klaus had gotten her a book on the life of William Blake, although he was beginning to doubt whether or not Isadora could have already recited it from memory, despite how grateful she seemed.

Isadora bought him the typewriter.

Klaus regretted giving that book to her. He should have gotten something more special, seeing how expensive the typewriter must have been. _A necklace this year,_ Klaus thought. _Girls like jewelry right?_

He was torn from his musing when someone almost knocked him over as he shoved past him. When Klaus looked up, he noticed everyone was heading back his way, away from the dock. He tried to push his way against the flow, and maybe he would be able to figure out why everyone was complaining and sounded annoyed as he overheard people speaking. Klaus finally made his way to the front, and saw that the ship was gone. He glanced down at his watch. _Ahead of schedule..._

Klaus froze. He remembered now. This was _The Prospero_.

"_Every ship has its own schedule."_

There had to have been a Volunteer in need of a quick ride out of the country. That was the only explanation. But how could it be? V.F.D. hadn't been active since Klaus was a boy. There were no more Volunteers.

Unless...

In the confusion, Klaus hadn't noticed another figure rushing against the crowd to get to the dock. He saw her now, a girl of about 14 years of age. She was clutching a small valise, and she looked very worried. And she apparently didn't stop running in time and almost fell off the edge of the dock, but Klaus caught her arm and helped her regain her balance.

She pulled her arm out of his grasp but continued to stare after the boat. Tears were forming in the girl's eyes as she whimpered, "No. Come back..."

Klaus observed her carefully. "You need any help? Are you lost?"

"No, I'm fine. Just missed my boat," she said in a quiet voice, still refusing to make eye contact. She clutched her suitcase close to her and nervously bit her lower lip.

There was something in the girl that seemed familiar. She looked so lost and confused, and her eyes were dark and lonesome.

"Where are your parents, kid?" Klaus asked gently.

She stopped searching for any sign of the ship returning and looked down into the water. "They're dead."

Klaus realized why he thought he had seen her before. The girl was tall and thin, and her dark hair was short and tied back in a ribbon. He then began to wonder if she was really there or he was just seeing another memory of Violet.

But there was something different about her. Her face was slightly rounder and freckles dotted her face. Violet's hair was darker and not as wavy.

Something clicked in Klaus's mind.

"How old are you?" he asked slowly.

The girl glanced at him but quickly looked back down at the ocean. Klaus could tell she was getting suspicious. "Why do you want to know?"

"Sorry. Just curious." He paused. "I missed the ship too. I've really been wanting to get out of the city. It's too loud here. I was hoping to spend the holidays out in the country. Where the world is quiet," Klaus said carefully.

There was a slight response from her. She looked up out over the ocean, to where _The Prospero_ was turning into a tiny dot on the horizon. After a long silence, she frowned and tears began to pool in her eyes once more. "I turn 13 today," she said quietly.

Klaus's eyes widened, but he tried not to show any surprise. He looked back at the departed ship. "Thirteen, huh?" he said casually. "Some people call that the 'Unfortunate Age.'"

"Well, they were right."

Again, a hint of Violet in her voice.

"What's your name?" Klaus asked her.

She didn't answer. Klaus didn't expect one.

"I knew Violet," he said, hoping to trigger some response.

Her eyes widened. But still, she said nothing.

After waiting a few quiet moments, he turned and started to walk away. The girl suddenly whirled around and called after him.

"Wait!" she shouted.

Klaus turned and waited.

She blinked a couple times before replying, debating whether or not she was doing the smart thing.

"Sunny," she said. "My name's Sunny."

Klaus swallowed and it was all he could do to stop himself from bursting into cheers or bursting into tears at hearing the name.

"Sunny," he said.

"Yep."

Klaus took a deep breath. She obviously didn't recognize him. She was too little the last time she had seen him. Violet might be different. She was older. She might remember.

If she wasn't trying to forget.

"Where's your sister, Sunny?" Klaus asked, struggling to maintain his calmness.

Sunny looked back over the water's surface and, staring after the ship, uttered only two words.

"_The Prospero_."


	4. Chapter 4:The T r u t h Behind the L i e...

Oh my gosh! Wow, I've never felt so loved! Thank you all for your reviews, I can't begin to explain how nice it feels to be appreciated by people I don't really know! (LOL!) But seriously folks, I'm really happy you guys like it so far!

**Reviewers in particular:**

**WonkaVision: Thank you! It's nice to see someone from the boards. And don't worry; I'll try to fit most of the original characters in somehow!**

**MlynnBloom: No, I am not related to Mr. Snicket in any way, although we are good pals. Last I heard he was somewhere in uncharted regions of Brazil searching for someone... But anywho, thanks for reading my story!**

**LadyEmily: Thank you, and You're welcome, I try to update as fast as I can. Partly for the reason that people are actually reviewing, and partly because it's so fun to write!**

**LunarMoon98: Don't worry! I'll be updating frequently. I'm anxious to see where this goes too...**

**HermioneBaudelaire: Like, thanks, for, like, the reviews and the shiny sticker! –Grins-**

Appreciate all the reviews! Keep 'em coming and I'll keep writing chapters!

Chapter 4: The T r u t h Behind the L i e s

_Dear Dairy,_

_I can't sleep. Suddenly everything seems so... meaningful, I guess you could say. It's almost like when you're a kid and you get a new puppy, and you spend so much time making sure it has a proper bed and enough food, and you look forward to the end of school everyday just so you can come home and spend time with it._

_Sunny has gotten so tall. All of her teeth have grown in and I've noticed how she keeps a pack of gum in her pocket, and she's always chewing a stick of it. I guess it's a substitute for just biting random things; she's older now and too mature for that._

_It's hard to not stare at her, and think about how many years have passed. The last time I saw Sunny, she was still a babbling toddler, with a small mop of light hair and four sharp teeth in her mouth. Now, she reminds me so much of Violet. Her hair is always tied up in a ribbon and her eyes are constantly gazing into the distance, staring at something I can't see._

..._Which leads me to a few concerns. _

_She's so serious. The way she speaks to you and then understands your reply... It's like there's an adult trapped in her body. She's too thin to be healthy and there's this haunting, hollow look in her facial expression._

_I don't think I've seen her smile._

_It's been almost exactly ten years... Almost exactly one decade. A lot can happen in such a long period of time._

Klaus looked up from the typewriter. His sorrowful gaze fell upon his sister sleeping fitfully on the sofa. Everything should be normal now. He had Sunny back. They only needed to find Violet. But still... It felt like he had only been reunited with half of his little sister.

_The question now is, what's happened?_

Sunny warily looked up at Klaus from the steaming cup of tea he had offered her. She didn't like how he was always glancing at her over the top of the newspaper he was reading. It had been risky enough to agree to stay with him for the next few days, but he had said he would help her find Violet, and Sunny had a gut feeling.

Gut feelings had served her well in the past.

Klaus shifted his newspaper once more and Sunny finally saw that it was that day's issue of _The Daily Punctilio_.

She narrowed her eyes at the headline.

_**Prospero**_** Departs Ahead of Schedule**

**Was it the Doing of a Baudelaire?**

Sunny glanced at the picture below it. It was an artist's rendering of she and Violet drawn by someone named Eriq Bluthetts. _Ugh. Doesn't look anything like us._

Sunny looked back up at Klaus just in time to see him hide his eyes behind the paper again.

_Guess that's a good thing._

Klaus must have sensed her discomfort as she stared at the front page. "'Veronica Baudelaire, aged approximately 25 years of age and eldest of the three Baudelaire murderers, was spotted at Daedalus Dock yesterday boarding a ship destined for France,'" he read. "'Susie, the youngest and who was recently sighted with Veronica, was nowhere to be seen. Klyde Baudelaire's whereabouts are still unknown."

When Klaus looked up, Sunny's eyes were wide and she looked as if she were ready to bolt out the door at any second. "Too bad they switched journalists," he said. "The guy who did yesterday's article was a friend of mine."

Sunny relaxed slightly. "You mean...you think we're innocent?"

"Well, you are, aren't you?"

"Yeah," she said quietly. "It's just that nobody believes us..."

Klaus watched her as she sadly dropped her gaze back down to her tea. He wondered if he should tell her who he really was.

No, not yet. She wouldn't understand.

"Do you remember your brother Sunny?" he asked carefully.

She swirled her spoon around in her tea for several moments before finally shrugging. "I don't exactly remember what he looks like. I have a few memories of when I was little, and Violet was always there, along with someone else. I can never see his face, but I've always figured it was him."

She stopped and sighed. Klaus looked down at his coffee.

Sunny was silent for a short while. Klaus didn't expect her to say anything else, but apparently she wasn't done speaking.

"Violet doesn't like to talk about him," she said quietly. "The only thing I've ever been able to get out of her was that he died when I was little. I think she's afraid she'll lose me too."

Klaus continued to stare into his coffee.

"Which reminds me...She's probably going crazy with worry right about now. We got separated in the crowds at the dock. I guess she boarded the ship thinking I was right behind her the whole time."

There was more silence. Klaus was deep in thought. If Sunny had changed so much, what would Violet be like?

Sunny looked up at him. "Klaus?" she asked, hesitantly and meekly.

He directed his stare to her dark liquid eyes. "Yes, Sunny?"

"You knew my brother right?"

Klaus nodded.

Sunny was quiet for a moment. "What was his name?" she asked. "His real name?"

Klaus stared for a long time. When he had told her his name the day before, he had hoped Sunny would recognize it.

She hadn't.

Now she wanted to know who her brother was. Violet never told her. _Ten whole years_ and Violet hadn't even told their sister his name.

Why hadn't she?

It wasn't going to be easy to explain it to her. There were too many questions and not enough answers. How did he know she would even believe him?

Sadly, Klaus realized there was only one thing he could do.

He had to lie to Sunny.

"It was Klyde."

"Oh," Sunny said. "So his name was the only thing they got right?"

Klaus sighed. "Yes."

Sunny stirred her tea for a minute or two, and then finally took a sip. She was becoming more comfortable around him, now that she knew she could trust him.

Yet Klaus still felt like a traitor.


	5. The W o r l d was Q u i e t

To my reviewers for Chapter 4:

Nny11: Thank you! And yes, they are very unfortunate...Maybe that will change by the end of the story, hmm...?

WonkaVision: Don't fret, you'll find out soon enough... ;)

MlynnBloom: Well, it's all for the purpose of the plot! And you might not want to hit your head with that keyboard too often; you might hurt yourself...

Oh yes, and I have a favor to ask you, Dear Readers. I wrote the first chapter in a semi-Snicket style, I guess you could say, but the other chapters in a more normal way. If you will tell me which style of writing you liked best, I would appreciate it. I'm torn between reverting to Lemony Snicket's technique and using my own. When the results are in, I'll write the next chapter in the way you like best. Thanks a lot!

Now I may present:

Chapter 5: The W o r l d was Q u i e t 

_The world was...quiet._

_That's how Sunny saw it that day._

_She wasn't quite sure where she was, but Violet was there. She was younger, about Sunny's age. Her face was softer and her dark hair had a silky sheen to it. Her eyes were a beautiful, bright green. But they were scared._

"_It's okay, Sunny, we'll find him," Violet murmured._

_Sunny heard someone yell at Violet to shut up. It was a nasty voice, one that was always there, overshadowing her deepest nightmares._

_But she could never identify the source of the voice. _

"_Well?" the voice said._

_A man looked at The Voice over his shoulder. He was searching for something._

_No, Sunny thought. Someone._

"_No sign of him yet, Boss," the man said._

_Violet whimpered beside Sunny. Tears were pooling in her worried eyes._

"_Well, look harder!" The Voice ordered._

_The man turned back to the pile of debris and rubble he was searching through. It looked like the ruins of something. Something that used to look like a hot air balloon. He pulled back a large, ripped scrap of balloon. He drew back slightly. A grave expression cloaked his face._

"_I...I think I found him," he said grimly._

_Violet stopped breathing and her face turned pale._

"_He's gone, Boss."_

"_Nooo!" Violet cried. "No, it can't be!"_

"_Well, let's go then. You know what they say, one down, two to go," The Voice sneered._

"_Klaus!" Violet broke into a run. She had to see it to believe it. To accept it._

"_Grab her, she's getting away!" shouted The Voice._

_The man caught her as she tried to run past him and slung her over his shoulder. Sunny noticed that he had hooks instead of hands. Violet kicked and screamed and pounded her fists on his back. "No, Klaus!" she called to the ruins. "Klaus please! Don't do this to me!"_

_Finally she stopped struggling and began to weep, crying harder and more mournfully then she had ever cried before, as if her entire soul was pouring out in her tears. And amongst her sobs, only three words were discernable, and she repeated them over and over, as if the more she said it, the more she meant it:_

"_I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..."_

"_I'm sorry too, Violet," whispered the hook-handed man._

_Sunny was never exactly sure as to what happened that day, all she was sure of was that that was when Violet began crying herself to sleep every night. That was when the light in Violet's eyes vanished. That was when she stopped tying her hair up in a ribbon, and began to spend most of the day looking off into space, staring at something Sunny couldn't see._

_On that day, the world was quiet, save Violet's heart-wrenching sobs that pierced the silence._

_Sunny never found out what happened that day, because Violet never told her. And never again did Sunny hear her utter that name she had screamed with such agony and murmured to herself that night._

Until now.

Sunny woke to find Klaus staring at her over his cup of coffee, sitting at the table. She had been crying in her sleep. Sunny quickly wiped the tears off her pale face and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"You okay?" Klaus asked.

"Mm-hmm," Sunny mumbled. "Just a nightmare."

"Ah," he said, and nodded understandingly. "Well hurry and freshen up; we're going to meet one of my friends today."

Sunny nodded but continued looking at Klaus a little longer. "Klaus..." she whispered.

"Huh?" he said.

"Oh, nothing..." she said, and left to wash her face in the bathroom.

She began to wonder if Klaus and her sister had been more than casual acquaintances, like he had told her.

But, of course, no one ever told her the truth about anything.

Klaus hailed a taxi that took them to the Valentino Family Diner, Sunny making sure to hide her face as well as she could. Klaus convinced her that once they entered the restaurant, they would be among friends.

They were relieved to find it empty of other customers, and Klaus told Sunny to wait at one of the booths while he went to get his friend from the kitchen.

Isadora was surprised to find a wide grin on Klaus's face when he came across her washing dishes.

"Isadora, I found her!" he said in an excited whisper, careful not to let Sunny overhear.

"Found who?" she asked, carefully placing a sugar bowl in the cupboard.

"Sunny! And she's all grown up! Come look at her!" Klaus said, and pulled Isadora over to one of the windows in the door. He was still as excited about being reunited with his sister as he had been that day at the dock. They watched Sunny flip through the records in the jukebox.

"Oh my goodness, she's so tall! Oh, and look at her beautiful hair!" Isadora squealed. "Wow, Klaus, she looks so much like Violet."

"Yeah, I know."

"Oh! Violet! Did you find her too?" Isadora asked.

He shook his head. "No, she's somewhere in France now."

Isadora gave Klaus a questioning look.

"I found Sunny at Daedalus Dock. They got separated in the rush and Violet boarded _The Prospero_ without knowing Sunny didn't make it."

"Oh..."

Klaus was silent, and they both stared at Sunny as she sat, mouthing the words to the song she had picked out.

"She's so different," Klaus finally said. "She doesn't remember anything that's happened."

"Nothing?" Isadora asked.

"Nothing."

"Not Olaf, not V.F.D., not the fire or the self-sustaining hot air mobile home?"

"Nope." Klaus sadly pressed his forehead against the glass. "Not even me..."

Isadora put a hand over her mouth and leaned her head on Klaus's shoulder. Sunny had her feet resting on a tabletop, tapping her toes together to the rhythm of the song's beat.

"She thinks that I'm just a friend of Violet," Klaus said quietly, "and that her brother's name was Klyde."

Isadora sighed and put a comforting arm around her friend's shoulders. "Can we go out and talk to her?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "That's why we're here."

They pushed open the swinging doors and walked over to Sunny, who quickly swung her feet down to the floor and brushed off the tabletop.

"Hello," she said politely. "You must be Klaus's..._friend_." She said the word as if she wasn't quite sure a "friend" would really have her hand on his shoulder. Sunny glanced knowingly at Klaus, an eyebrow raised.

At first Klaus looked confused, but then he caught on to what Sunny might have been assuming, and stepped away from Isadora.

Isadora grinned and stretched out her arm. Sunny inspected her carefully before shaking her hand. Klaus wondered if this is what Sunny had learned during all those years of being wanted by law: Don't trust anyone who is too friendly. Heck, don't trust anyone at all.

Klaus had begun to wonder even more about what had happened during the past decade.

"Isadora Quagmire," Isadora introduced herself.

"Quagmire..." Sunny murmured. "I've heard that name before."

_Oh, well she remembers _her! Klaus thought jealously.

"I was a friend of Violet's too," Isadora said.

Sunny nodded understandingly.

There was an awkward silence.

"Well... Hey, Sunny, do you want something? Hot chocolate maybe?" Isadora asked. "I work here, so it's on the house."

Sunny shrugged. "Sure."

Klaus and Sunny sat down at the booth as Isadora left to prepare the drink. Sunny hummed along with the sad, slow tune coming from the jukebox.

_I'm sitting in the railway station._

_Got a ticket for my destination._

_On a tour of one-night stands _

_My suitcase and guitar in hand._

_And every stop is neatly planned _

_For a poet and one-man band._

_Homeward bound,_

_I wish I was,_

_Homeward bound,_

_Home, where my thought's escaping_

_Home, where my music's playing,_

_Home, where my love lies waiting,_

_Silently for me. _

"I like this song," Sunny said, with no preamble. "It's kinda sad." She gazed out the window. It had rained, turning the snow to slush, and the sky was gray, making everything seem colder. "I like sad songs," she added quietly.

Klaus nodded, realizing he did too. He didn't know why. He hadn't really thought about it. It just kind of...fitted.

Isadora brightened up the room with her cheery personality when she came back with a mug of hot chocolate and a cup of coffee for Klaus. He didn't tell her he had already had his coffee that morning. He appreciated Isadora's thoughtfulness.

"So!" Isadora said, trying to spark a conversation. "How old are you Sunny?"

Sunny silently scooped some whipped cream into her mouth. "I turned thirteen a couple of days ago."

Isadora raised her eyebrows. "Thirteen? Really?"

"Uh-huh."

"Wow. A teenager now, huh?"

Sunny nodded.

"Did Klaus throw you a party?" she asked.

"No." She took a sip of hot chocolate. "I don't really need one."

"Well, turning teen is a big thing in a girl's life!" she said, throwing her hands in the air. "We should do something to remember it!"

Sunny looked up at Isadora with an eyebrow raised. Klaus could tell she'd rather be celebrating with her sister than with someone she'd just met. So she shrugged. "Sure."

"Great," Isadora said. "What do you want to do today Sunny?"

She looked unsure.

"Today's your day. We'll do anything you want."

She began to scoop some more whipped cream, but she froze, spoon halfway to her mouth. She looked thoughtful.

Finally, Sunny looked up. She stared directly into Klaus's eyes. Not Isadora's, whose question she was answering, but Klaus's, as if Sunny knew he would be able to help her fulfill a certain wish.

"I want to see my old house," she said. "I want to see my home."


	6. S u n n y D a y

**Reviewers:**

**Lady Emily: Ah, so many questions... You'll just have to read on to find the answers... ;)**

**Arden C. Evans: Hey! Nice to see ya! Thank you very much for the review. A while ago I was tuned into an oldies radio station and when I heard the line, "..._for a poet and a one-man band,"_ I don't know why, I just thought of Isadora and Klaus, because she's a poet and he's sort of alone (in this story), a one-man band. But I dunno. I like the song too!**

**Samela: Howdy Sam! Thank you for reviewing. I appreciate the compliment!**

**Phoenix72389: Thanks a bunch! The story is going to get much better very soon, in my opinion. :) **

**-AND- Alright, I know it's kind of quick, but I really wanted to write the next chapter, so I took a quick look at what a couple of reviewers said and decided. **

**So...**

**The votes are in and more people preferred the normal style to Snicket's. I have to admit, it's easier to write this way because you don't have to stop and put in "...which here means..." and the different sorts of examples he uses from his own experiences. It's a very tedious process actually. Besides, this is supposed to be written by Klaus, like it says in the title. He could very well have a different writing style than Lemony's...**

**Thank you all for your participation and your support!**

**With all due respect,**

**L.V.B. **

Chapter 6: S u n n y D a y

_Dear Dairy,_

_We took Sunny to the mansion, like she asked. I showed her where the library, her room, the kitchen, and the dining hall used to be. She seemed very interested in what I explained to her, and now I'm worried that I've said too much. She's probably wondering why the "family friend" knew almost everything about her house._

_I told her how "Klyde" (I almost slipped and said "I") used to spend hours in the library, reading books, and she asked me if he (or I) had been really smart. I said, for his age, yes. It made me remember how the guests at our dinner parties used to marvel at my extensive vocabulary and ask me if I was really 12 years old._

_The rain had hardened most of the snow and turned everything to ice, so we enjoyed a short ice-skating competition on the frozen dining room floor. I remembered how Violet and I would tie sponges to our shoes when Mother asked us to clean the floor and we would skate around, much like we did today. Before, Sunny would sit on the table and chew on a spoon. Today, Sunny whizzed past me on the ice and knocked me over._

_Isadora was as graceful as a swan on our makeshift rink, however. Her nose and cheeks had turned pink from the cold and her black hair stood out against the white snow. She's actually very pretty if you look her for a while. Not that I was..._

_After everyone was sore from falling over and our toes were practically frostbitten, we went back to the Diner and had some more hot chocolate. Since business was slow and Tony had let Isadora "hold down the fort" while he was out of town, we decided to close the Diner for the afternoon, proclaiming today "Sunny Day." _

_We asked Sunny what she wanted to do next. She thought for a while, and then told us she had read something in a book that if you take hot syrup and put it in the snow, it should turn into hard candy. While I proudly discovered that she was also quite an avid reader, Isadora went into the kitchen and heated up some maple syrup on the stove._

_After I found out that Sunny's favorite book was "Oliver Twist," we went outside and found an untouched patch of snow. Isadora poured the hot syrup onto the snow from a coffee pot. We waited a few moments for it to crystallize, and then had a snack of the pleasantly hard yet sweet candy. I told Isadora that it tasted kind of like coffee, but Sunny didn't seem to mind. She said she liked hard candy. It was the candy you could really bite. Stretchy, chewy, soft candy never really appealed to her, she said to me. I nodded, knowingly._

_After finishing the maple snow, Isadora and Sunny went shopping, just them. They went to the Victorian Fancy Dress, so Sunny was allowed to show her face; ex-Volunteers ran the store. _

_See, there's this thing about Isadora. She knew how to take care of herself. When she and her brothers turned 18, they inherited the Quagmire fortune. In truth, Isadora was actually incredibly rich. She had come up with the plan to become a waitress, figuring that nobody would rob a girl who only got a waiter's salary. Meanwhile, she's got tons of money to spend, and she can be totally inconspicuous about it. _

_So when the girls came back, their arms were full with bulging shopping bags, and they were both wearing new, rather "in" outfits. Sunny presented herself with an air of dignity, and I could tell she had enjoyed the trip. A shadow of a smile could be seen on her face._

_I asked Sunny if there was anything else she wanted to do. She fidgeted with a new bracelet and shrugged. It was getting late anyway and she looked a bit tired, so I suggested that maybe she might want to just read a book. Sunny's face brightened up, and she nodded. I ran back to my apartment to fetch my copy of "Oliver Twist," and the girls chatted and looked at their new clothes in the mirror._

_When I came back, we settled down at one of the tables and I handed Sunny the book. She stared at it for a long time. For a moment I thought I had done something wrong, like maybe I hadn't gotten the right book. But then she opened it thoughtfully and told us how Violet had read the book to her the first time she'd seen it. I could tell she really missed Violet. _

_We all did._

_Sunny was silent for a little while. Then she looked up at me with her sad, innocent eyes. She asked me if I would read it. I smiled and said I would._

_Isadora and Sunny listened intently as I read "Oliver Twist." In my mind, I recalled my old school, the school I went to before the fire. My English teacher had us all write stories about anything we wanted. When they were finished, we all had to go up to the front of the classroom and read them out loud. I remember standing there, reading my story, and then I realized I wanted to become a writer._

_Books were my passion, but if you were the author, you could choose the path of the storyline. You were in control of the ending, whether it was happy or tragic._

_As I read "Oliver Twist," it felt a bit like I was reading about my own life. It was about a lonely orphan who gets caught up in an adventure, finds new friends, loses old friends, and in the end, he finds his home._

_Then I thought a little more about it. Almost the same, I guess. My journey did not have a happy ending. Or a happy beginning. And only a few happy things happened in the middle, like Mr. Snicket used to say. _

_There are two different kinds of writers. Ones like Mr. Snicket, a considerable inspiration in my writing career, who writes about things that have really happened and can't help it if the story ends unhappily. And there are writers like Charles Dickens, who write about things they've made up, like the tale of Oliver Twist and the happy ending he was rewarded with. _

_I'm caught between the two. The story I wrote in school was much different from the other children's, who created stories about happy little elves who go on adventures, or recounted family vacations they had just gotten back from. I had just finished reading a compilation of William Shakespeare's works, and I was still under the strong influence of the tragic, miserable themes he used to overshadow his plays. I wrote a short story about a boy who ran away from home to find his little sister, who had wandered away and hadn't been seen for years. He finally found her, but when they came back home they discovered that their parents had become sick and perished while the children were gone._

_The other kids were very suspicious of me after that, pondering what was really going on inside my head. My English teacher, however, gave me an A on that story, and said "I was very mature and sophisticated for my age" and should keep writing._

_As I read "Oliver Twist," I smiled and remembered that my teacher was Ms. K, a Volunteer watching for the qualities needed for V.F.D._

_By writing this story down on paper, maybe I'll become the writer Mr. Snicket once was. I'm recording a story that needs a happy ending, but not expecting one._

_Although, for now, I don't need a happy ending. I just need this pleasant moment, with Isadora flipping quietly through "Oliver Twist," Sunny sleeping soundly as she leans against my shoulder, and I'm doing the thing I love most: Writing._

_But something's missing._

Klaus looked up from his notepad. He almost didn't know he had written that last sentence; it just came out. He felt it so strongly.

Something was gone. There was a gap in the moment he was attempting to enjoy. It was like part of time had been torn out of his life, and he couldn't rest until he put the last piece back into the puzzle.

He let his gaze fall to the empty chair sitting at the end of the table. A lump swelled in his throat as he realized what it was.

No, his journey definitely wasn't over yet. There was still one last element needed. The last part of his story. But it seemed to him that it would be impossible to find. Klaus swallowed hard and he looked back down at his work.

_It's Violet._


	7. M i s s i n g

**Wow! So many reviews! Whenever I read a good review like the ones you guys have sent me, it really helps me stay cheery as I write this fic, which is good, seeing how it's kinda sad...(lol)**

**Here are the Respectful Reviewers:**

**Powerof1P3PadfootsGrl: Wow, I'm truly flattered...I'm so very very very very glad that you're enjoying my fic this much! And I also hope to go professional someday... Right now I guess I'll have to settle for my school journal assignments, which aren't as fun to write...(Bleh :P)**

**LolliPopsAreTears: Thank you very much! And don't worry, I've got plenty of ideas for future stories in my head, so remember that you haven't seen the last of me! There is this one plot I've been debating whether or not to start writing, before anyone else takes the idea... But if I started now, I probably wouldn't get this story done, and you guys don't want that do ya?**

**Micartne: Thanks a million! I'm guessing there will be at least 15 chapters or so...I'll try to stretch it out as far as I can (and as far as I should, don't want it to get boring!) Oh yes, and you probably shouldn't eat stories alive; you'll get a stomachache.**

**Visualpurple: Don't worry; I won't be stopping any time soon! Thanks for the review!**

**Lady Emily: He'll get around to telling her sooner or later...or maybe someone else will, hmm? And don't fret, Violet is not gone forever!**

**WonkaVision: Thanks! Klaus was always my favorite character. I like writing about him, so when I got the idea for this story I thought, Hey, why not let it be about Klaus?**

**NewbiaTheElf: Thanks to you, also. I try to end each chapter like that, so people will keep coming back for more. And I try to be careful when grammar and spell checking. Sometimes mistakes can be distracting, so  
I watch out for them. Aunt Josephine would be so proud! And I was planning on putting some action and adventure in the future chapters like the when they go to France... Oops. I think I've said too much...**

**Phoenix72389: Yes, it's easy to sympathize with Klaus... But I like sad stories, kinda how Sunny likes sad songs... And like I said before, Violet will show up eventually! (Oh happy day!)**

Thank you all SO much!!! I love getting reviews from my readers!

Chapter 7: M i s s i n g

_A lone figure sat amidst the ruins. They were the ruins of the former home of his two friends, a home that used to fly._

_But it wasn't flying anymore._

_There was only one person there, or at least that's what he thought. There was only him. The others were gone. They were gone and he didn't know where they went._

_He couldn't be the only survivor of the crash; if he was really all alone, he was sure he'd go crazy. And he was still just a kid. _

_The boy already wasn't in the best shape. A black ring circled his eye and a dried thread of blood traced down the side of his face. His skull throbbed and there was a small cut in his bottom lip. _

_But he didn't notice any of it. The only thing he could think of was the fact that they were all gone, and he had been left behind. Hot tears stung his eyes._

"_Klaus?"_

_Klaus jumped and turned around. Another lone figure now stood at the edge of the rubble. It was a man, and he was wearing a hat and a plain brown coat._

"_Mr. Snicket," Klaus said. "My sisters, they're gone."_

_He nodded gravely. "Are there any others?"_

_Klaus looked down and shrugged. "I was out for a couple hours. I haven't found their..." Klaus wasn't sure he could even say it, fearing that he would find his siblings after it was too late. "...their...bodies. They might have left, but I just can't figure out why they would..."_

"_I saw tire tracks. Somebody took them. I'm pretty sure I know who," Mr. Snicket said._

"_Yeah, me too. That's what I kinda figured anyway..." Klaus swallowed hard. "I...I think I might have found Isadora, but I'm afraid to check..." He pointed a shaky finger at a nearby pile of wreckage._

_Mr. Snicket nodded understandingly, stepped over some debris to take a look at Klaus's friend, and reached down to take her pulse. Klaus turned away, afraid that Mr. Snicket was about to tell him the worst._

"_She's fine. Unconscious, but alive."_

_Klaus breathed a sigh of deepest relief._

"_I don't see anyone else," Mr. Snicket said. "He must have taken them all with him."_

_Klaus's eye twitched. A twitch that hadn't been there before. He tried to rub it away._

"_I've been thinking about that..." Klaus said quietly. "About something he told me a long time ago. 'It takes a village to raise a child, but only one child to inherit a fortune.'" He looked at Isadora's unmoving body. "We're both inheriting our family fortunes when we come of age. He only needs one of us for each fortune. Do you think he took everyone else just to...just to...?" More tears sprang to his eyes at the very thought._

"_Klaus," Mr. Snicket said firmly. "I'm a professional in tracking down missing persons, as you already know. So let me tell you that I'm going to do everything within my power to find your sisters."_

_Klaus rubbed his eye again and nodded._

_Mr. Snicket bent down and picked up Isadora. "You better stay with me for now Klaus. I might need your help."_

"_Alright," Klaus said. _

_Klaus and Mr. Snicket, with Isadora in his arms, walked away from the ruins and towards his small automobile. Away from a series of unfortunate events that had been Klaus's old life, and towards a completely different journey._

Klaus opened his eyes. He found himself staring at the table, and guessed he must have fallen asleep at the typewriter again.

Sunny had stayed at Isadora's the previous night, and Klaus figured they probably chatted late into the night, gossiping about movie stars and fixing up each other's hair. After all, that's what girls do at sleepovers right? Not sleep?

Klaus squinted and pushed his glasses back into place. He read what he had written the night before.

That's right. He had been copying what he had put down in his notebook.

Klaus read the last lines over and over again, debating what he should do.

_But something's missing. _

_It's Violet._

There was more truth in the words than what he had intended. It was supposed to be more metaphorical. But now it seemed too real to Klaus.

Violet is missing.

He went over a list of facts in his head.

Violet was on _The Prospero_.

She's going to France.

The ship should take a few days to get to France, if they don't stop, and they're traveling at a fast speed. A week tops.

Then Klaus went over a list of things they needed to know.

Why is Violet going to France?

Has she arrived there yet?

Where in France is she?

Klaus thought. And then he thought some more. After staring at the rain dripping down his window for about five minutes, he was done thinking. There was one more thing he needed to know

When do we leave for France?

Isadora would probably want to come. She always said she was a Parisian at heart. Of course, they had to bring Sunny.

He thought a little longer, wondering if Duncan would want to come. Klaus shrugged. Maybe he'll want to write a story on it.

He rubbed his eye and wheeled his chair over to his telegram device. Klaus glanced at his watch. He had slept later than he thought. Duncan would be awake by now, for sure.

He tapped out the message.

_To: Duncan Quagmire_

_From: K. Baudelaire_

_We found Sunny STOP. Your article really helped STOP. Too bad they gave it the boot STOP. We're going to find Violet soon STOP. We're pretty sure she's in France STOP. I was wondering if you were interested in coming STOP. We'll be leaving within the next few days STOP._

_Hope to see you soon STOP._

_With all due respect, Klaus STOP._

_P.S. All these stops are annoying STOP._

Klaus only had time to prepare his morning cup of coffee before he received an answer.

To: K. Baudelaire

_From: Duncan Quagmire_

_E rtfg sdfee dskkkls fjsnes senfejsf ee e sss ods._

Oh yes, that's right. Duncan never learned Morse code.

The old two-way AM radio crackled to life. It made a noise that sounded like someone clearing his throat.

Klaus pressed a button on the radio. "Some Volunteer you were," he said, as if he always greeted people that way.

"Excuse me, but I was just supposed to be the spy at _The Punctilio_, not some army brat," Duncan's voice countered. "Why don't you just use the radio?"

"Well, sometimes it's easier to notice you're getting a message on the telegram device. I didn't want you to think you had voices inside your head again."

"Klaus, that was years ago, and I was JOKING."

"Right."

"Yes. Right."

Klaus shook his head. "So, what do you think?"

"About what?"

"About the voices in your head," he retorted sarcastically. "Duncan, did you even read the telegram?"

"Oh! Yeah, I did. Has she changed much?" he asked.

"Well, she grew a couple of feet, and she has all her teeth in. She likes to read, too," he said proudly.

"Boy, can't wait to see you guys again. So much has been happening lately," Duncan said.

"Yeah," Klaus replied. "So, you want to tag along when we leave?"

"Hmmm... France huh?"

"Yup."

The radio was quiet for several seconds. Klaus could picture Duncan scratching the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. He wondered what he was thinking about. Klaus didn't ponder much about it though. Duncan always had a few secrets.

"Sure, I'll come."

"Great," Klaus said. "We'll meet you at the train station tomorrow at 3:00, okay?"

"Alright."

Klaus paused. He had to put in one last parting retort.

"Don't let the voices scare you Duncan."

"Ha. I can't wait till tomorrow either, Twitchy," he answered.

The classic comeback. Denial.

"See ya Duncan."

"Bye Klaus."


	8. A l l A b o a r d

**Oh boy! Here we go! **

**Dear Reviewers:**

**Nny11: Thanks again! And again and again!**

**MlynnBloom: You know, the more I read reviews like yours, the more I realize how appreciated I am! Thank you so much for sticking around and reading. I'm not sure how many chapters I'm going to write, but I'd say at least 13. And I'm not sure where Quigs is going to fit in yet...I'll try and work him in somehow!**

**NewbiaTheElf: I try to update as fast as I can, I know you guys won't wait very long! And there is a reason why Duncan was a bit "particular" I guess you could say, about France. You'll just have to wait to see why...**

**Lady Emily: I always pictured Duncan as the one with the sense of humor, who likes to joke around with his friends a lot. (Or at least for this story.) You'll be seeing more of him!**

**Powerof1P3PadfootsGrl: Thank you! France is coming up, and it should be interesting...**

**Phoenix72389: Don't worry; like I said before, I'm still thinking about where Quigley should come in. And, yeah, I like Duncan too. :D**

**Okay, and I'll have to warn you, there are a few spoilers for The Grim Grotto in this chapter, and there may be more coming up in the future. Please tell me in your review if you haven't read it yet so I can avoid as many spoilers as I can! Thank you!**

**Well, without forcing you to wait any longer, here it is!**

Chapter 8: A l l A b o a r d

"_Klaus."_

"Hmm?"

"_Klaus!" _Sunny hissed.

"What?" Klaus looked at her over the newspaper.

"Do you know who that guy over there is?" she whispered.

"What guy?" Klaus asked as he looked around the platform of the train station.

"Don't look!" Sunny said.

He quickly hid his head behind the paper. "What guy?" he asked again.

Sunny curled back a page of the newspaper so Klaus could peer at the man Sunny was indicating. He was wearing a long, dark trench coat and a hat, the brim pulled over his face.

"He keeps looking at us," Sunny whispered.

They watched the man for several moments. He just stood there, leaning against the wall, staring at the ground.

"I don't think you should worry about it," Klaus said. "He's probably just waiting for the train."

Sunny seemed unsure. She looked up at Klaus, worry in her eyes. "I don't know Klaus..." she said. "It's just...I've seen that guy before. He was at the Diner once. And I saw him walking down the street in front of the mansion."

Klaus looked at the man again, trying to decide on whether or not he should be concerned.

"I haven't caught a glimpse of his face," Sunny whispered, "but I'm sure I've seen him somewhere else."

The two glanced cautiously at the stranger, trying to see who was under the hat.

Isadora walked up to them, four tickets in her hands. "What are you guys looking at?"

Klaus shook his head, not wanting to worry her.

She glanced down at her watch. "Well, Duncan should be here any minute now. I got the tickets, and the train will be arriving shortly. Then, we'll take a taxi to the airport, and the plane should take off at about 4:30, which means we'll be there by...Oh let's see, how long will it take to fly to France..." Klaus and Sunny could tell that Isadora already had everything planned out. Her motto was, "Be on time or don't even bother."

"Hey everybody! I made it!" said a voice from behind them. The three turned around.

"Duncan!" Isadora said. She gave her brother a quick hug.

"Nice to see you again, Twitchy," Duncan said to Klaus as he shook his hand.

"You too, Duncan." Klaus stepped aside so Duncan could see his sister.

"Is this little Sunny?" Duncan asked.

Sunny nodded shyly.

"Well, for a minute I thought I was looking at Judy Garland!" he said. She blushed and looked down at her feet. He extended his hand to her.

"Duncan Quagmire, star reporter for _The Daily Punctilio_, although not currently on speaking terms with my editor." Sunny shook his hand. "Hey wait!" he said suddenly.

Sunny froze as Duncan looked at her face carefully. "What is this...? Oh, well would you look at that!" He pulled a coin from behind her ear. "A quarter? You know, you really shouldn't have," Duncan said, pocketing the coin. "But thanks anyway."

Sunny put a hand up to her ear, rather confused. "How did you...?"

"Ah, a magician never tells," Duncan said, and he picked up his suitcases.

Isadora laughed and Klaus shook his head, smiling.

"Well," Duncan said. "When does the train get here?"

"Any minute now," Isadora answered. As if in reply, a whistle shrieked in the distance.

It began to snow as the train grinded to a halt. They picked up their luggage and Duncan called out, "All aboard the Polar Express!"

And as they boarded the train, all Klaus could think of was how close they were to finding his sister.

_Dear Dairy,_

_It's been pretty quiet for the majority of the ride. Sunny is amusing herself by learning how to do a few magic tricks, and Duncan is amusing himself by enjoying how easily Sunny is amused. He's probably thinking that it's about time somebody actually asked to see some of his tricks. _

_Isadora is reading "Les Fleurs du Mal", a book of depressing poetry, her favorite kind. I think that translates into "The Flowers of Evil." I might have to read it someday._

_Which reminds me, I found out something else about Sunny. She speaks French. And Italian. And Russian, and German, and Spanish and some Dutch. When I asked her how she knew so many languages, she said she and Violet traveled a lot, and she just picked them up. Wow. Now I'm going to need a translator to understand my little sister. I guess she could come in handy when we get to France. Isadora speaks French too, which means now we're going to have two gossiping girls talking about us in another language. Great._

_It's been snowing pretty hard, and I hope it doesn't delay the train. I'm worried that we won't be able to catch up with Violet on time. We just have a faint idea of where she should be. Sunny said they were going to see the Notre Dame, which means they were going to Paris. But still, Paris is a pretty big city. Violet could be almost anywhere._

"Pssst! Klaus!" Sunny whispered.

Klaus stopped writing. "What?"

Sunny silently pointed back at the booth behind them. Sitting there, hiding his face behind a newspaper, was the same man they had seen at the train station.

_And now we've got a stalker._

. . .

Finally, the train slowed to a halt, and they walked out to the street to hail a cab. Klaus listened as the train howled a parting whistle. It made him a bit sad, for some reason. It sounded like it was calling for something it missed terribly.

But somehow, Klaus knew it was getting closer to finding it.

The airport was crowded, as they had predicted, it being so close to the holidays. They had almost forgotten that Sunny was still in the papers, wanted for murder, and she had to flip up her jacket's collar so most of her face was hidden. They boarded the plane without any problems, and before they could let it sink in, they were on their way to Paris, France.

The ride was a quiet one, and there was plenty of time to talk amongst each other. But nobody really had much to say, each enveloped in his or her own thoughts. Isadora was thinking about their luggage, hoping that they would all make it to Paris, and that they had brought everything they needed. Klaus was wondering where they should look for Violet once they landed, and when they should start. Sunny pondered what Violet would say when she saw her, if she would be angry, or relieved, or half-crazy. And Duncan was wrapped up in thoughts of his own.

But what worried Klaus the most was the fact that it had been so long since he had seen his sister. Why did she leave him that one day, 10 years before, at the remains of the hot-air mobile home? Had she been forced to? ...Or did she choose to?

A new fear invaded Klaus's mind.

For what reason did she keep him a secret from Sunny? Why wouldn't she want to tell her? Maybe she abandoned him on purpose. Maybe she had been trying to stay away from him this whole time.

Klaus shook his head. No, this was Violet. His older sister. She cared about him. She would do anything for her siblings. Maybe she was still the strong-willed young woman she had been when he last saw her. Maybe she had been searching for Klaus all these years. Maybe she was waiting for him, waiting to finally see him again.

But still, Klaus began to wonder.

So he pulled out a small book of photographs he kept in his pocket, and leafed through them, just like he had done so many times whenever he lost hope.

He first looked at an old, worn photograph, one that had somehow survived going through the wash several times, and was falling apart along the creases. It was a picture of his parents, along with Mr. Snicket and his brother. It had been taken quite a few years before he was born, even before his parents were married, making the photograph at least 30 years old. Klaus wondered how it still existed, after all it had been through. His parents' faces were a fading memory in his mind, and this was the last picture of them in his possession. He needed it. He needed it to remember.

The next page had a picture of he and his siblings jumping around in the snow, attempting to catch snowflakes in their mouths. It was the only photograph he had of them actually enjoying themselves. In the background were Isadora, Duncan, and their triplet Quigley, throwing snowballs at each other, laughing.

Sunny had her tiny hands up in the air, as if she was trying to grab the flakes out of the sky before they touched the ground. A 13-year-old Klaus was leaning backwards as far as he could, his mouth opened wide and his tongue sticking out, waiting for the snow to land on it. The photographer had caught Violet at the right moment. She was leaping up into the air, the white snowflakes contrasting her dark hair, and was laughing as if the fire had never occurred.

Klaus flipped the page. That was how he wanted to remember her.

The next photograph was of one solitary figure. He was tall and thin, his hands in his pockets, and he was wearing a long, black coat, making him stand out against the snow in the background. Klaus knew that in his pockets he really had hooks where his hands should have been.

His face showed no expression, he just stared blankly at the camera. But his eyes told a story. They were sorrowful and depressed, as if the light of his life had been extinguished. Klaus sadly recalled why the man looked so despondent.

"Hey, it's Ferdy!" Sunny said. Klaus hadn't known his sister had been looking at the pictures over his shoulder.

"Ferdy?" Klaus asked. "You mean Fernald?"

"Yeah," she replied. "He's younger there. He looks so sad."

"Wait, you know Fernald?"

"Uh-huh. He's a friend of my sister's. Do you know him too?"

"Yeah..." Klaus said. There were still so many questions.

Then the flight attendant announced how much closer he was to the answers when the intercom crackled to life and said that they were landing in Paris.


	9. P a r i s

**Dear Reviewers,**

**Visualpurple: Ok, let me sum up Chapter the 8th for you:**

**At the train station, Klaus and Sunny see a strange man wearing a long coat and a hat that covers his face, who is supposedly following them. After meeting Duncan, who amazes Sunny with the old "quarter behind the ear" trick, they board the train to the airport. On the train, they see the same man sitting behind them. When they get on the airplane that will take them to France, Klaus starts to wonder if Violet possibly could have kept Sunny a secret from him for a reason. He takes out a small book of photographs and flips through it. Sunny claims that she knows a man in one of the pictures whose name I will not mention here, (because it is a Grim Grotto spoiler,) someone Sunny should have forgotten a long time ago. Klaus wondered how he could be a friend of Violet's, as Sunny said. They land in Paris. Hope that helps! No spoilers in this chapter!**

**Phoenix72389: Yes, it thickens indeed... The answers should be coming up in a while...**

**NewbiaTheElf: Yes, Klaus had his notebook, not typewriter. I think once I wrote, "Klaus stopped writing", not typing, but I only indicated it once, so it would be kinda hard to catch anyway, lol. And I'm thinking I might do another fic from Sunny's POV after I finish this one, so...It's possible.**

**Lady Emily: Oh thank you! -Takes award- I'd like to thank my mom, and my dad, and Lemony Snicket, and ALL my readers!!! -Sniff- Ok. Anyway, about Duncan's secret... The truth will soon be revealed! Muah-ha-ha!! Sorry. And Violet... Well, she'll be around... **

**Ed, the Giant Racoon: Thank you much! I am utterly and truly flattered. –Grins-**

**MlynnBloom: Bonjour! Merci! And...well, that's just about the only French I know, or know how to spell anyway... Luckily I have my trusty French-English dictionary on hand! So let's see, while I've got it... "Quel temps fait-il? Je voudrais envoyer un telegramme," a phrase which here means, "How is the weather? I would like to send a telegram." Hey, wait a minute...**

**Powerof1P3PadfootsGrl: I'm trying to remember if there's anything past Chapter 11 of TGG I just spoiled... Well, if I did, sorry, and please finish it soon! :) Anyway... Ok, this part is pretty cool: "Les Fleurs Du Mal" was a real book written by poet Charles Baudelaire. One of the poems included in it was titled "La Beatrice." Awesome huh? The Bad Beginning Rare Edition has a verse of that poem at the end, signed only "C. Baudelaire"...**

**WonkaVision: Yes, Ferdy. And no, you shouldn't be worried; it will all make sense in the end! –Wink-**

**Well, again, I must say, thank you so so so so so much Readers! I appreciate how you guys are taking the time to read my story! Here's a longer chapter to reward you for your loyalty!**

Chapter 8: P a r i s 

_Dear Dairy,_

_When we finally found a hotel, we were all dog-tired. One, because our translators, Isadora and Sunny, were outside with the luggage, so I had an especially hard time checking in at the front desk. I finally had to run outside and grab Isadora who made the reservations with the ease of a true Parisian. And two, because we were all jet-lagged, it being nighttime back at home and daytime here._

_After we got 3 rooms, (Sunny and Isadora are sharing) I set up the typewriter on the small table in my room. I always take it with me in a special carrying case when I travel, so I can write, like I am now._

_Duncan has been awfully quiet. I'm beginning to wonder why._

_Well, we're leaving to go eat. I can't wait to see what kind of fancy restaurants they've got here. _

_Like Mr. Snicket used to say:_

_With all due respect. _

. . .

The restaurant was the "Véritable Diner Français", a highly recommended eating establishment located in a busy section of Paris. All the waiters were dressed in expensive white tuxedos and even the air smelled sophisticated. This wasn't your average, "Eat at Joe's" restaurant; this was the eatery of the wealthy. And the four had money to spend.

They all had to order from a French menu, and Klaus couldn't help but feel proud when he learned that Sunny could identify and pronounce the names of every dish on the list. She gave the waiter several complicated tips on how to prepare a certain dish, and told him to pass the information on to the cook. The waiter left with a slightly puzzled look on his face, as if the only thing he had understood was "Oh yes, and hold the mushrooms," or the French equivalent of it.

Sunny silently twiddled a quarter around in her fingers for a while, before looking up at Duncan and asking, "Hey Duncan, you knew my brother Klyde, right?"

"Klyde? You mean Klau-"

Isadora kicked him under the table.

"Ow! I mean, yeah, sure I knew Klyde. Isadora had a huge crush on him when they were kids," Duncan said.

Isadora's jaw dropped and everyone flinched when her menu hit Duncan's head. Klaus raised an eyebrow and blinked at the menu Isadora was now hiding behind.

Lucky for her, the waiter showed up with the beverages they ordered. Klaus watched as he poured Sunny a cup of coffee.

"Are you sure you should be drinking that, Sunny?" he asked.

Sunny shrugged and sprinkled in some sugar from the sugar bowl the waiter had set on the table. "Well, you know what they say," she said. "When in Rome... Or France..."

Well, obviously Sunny's system was not used to the caffeine in the coffee, because she was wired for the rest of the day. When they left the restaurant, she skipped out to the rental car and hopped in the front seat, shouting "Shotgun!" And when they finally got her to sit in the back, she bounced up and down in her seat for the duration of the ride.

"So where are we off to?" Duncan asked.

"Well, I happen to have a friend who works nearby, so I figured we should stop in and ask if she's seen anything," Klaus replied.

"Who is it?" Isadora asked.

"You'll see. I think you'll recognize her."

Duncan turned and stared thoughtfully out the window.

"Are we there yet?" Sunny called from the backseat.

"Almost, Sunny," Klaus replied.

Sunny paused. "Now are we there?"

"Sunny..." Isadora said.

"Sorry."

. . .

Klaus's friend turned out to be a singer at a local theater and café. The place was crowded with audience members, instrumental performers, dancers and actors. Sunny, Isadora, and Duncan, who was becoming rather nervous, followed Klaus backstage to the entertainers' dressing rooms. They approached a door that had a brass plate fastened to it, and on it was engraved only one word:

_**Spats**_

Isadora's mouth dropped open. "Oh, so this is the mysterious 'friend,'" she said. "I've been wondering what she's been up to lately..."

However, when Duncan saw the name, his eyes widened and he took a step backwards.

Klaus knocked on the door.

"_Oui?_" called a voice from the inside.

"Hey, guess who!" Klaus shouted.

There was a pause. "Oh, great," she said. Klaus could picture her rolling her eyes as she primly filed her fingernails. They heard footsteps as she walked over to the door.

Duncan fidgeted. "Hey, um... There's something I didn't tell you guys..."

Too late. The door swung open and standing there was a young woman. She had curly red hair that tumbled past her shoulders and she was wearing a long blue dress adorned with sapphires that gleamed as bright as her eyes. In her hand she held a foldable fan the same color as her dress, only a shade lighter. Sunny could have sworn was looking at Nicole Kidman from _Moulin Rouge_.

Duncan gulped and ducked behind his sister.

"Didn't I tell you never to bug me again?" she asked as she folded her arms impatiently.

"Sorry, Carmelita, I just wanted to ask you something," Klaus said.

She sighed testily. "Ok, but make it quick. I've got a performance in a few minutes."

Isadora raised her eyebrows. "Really? I hope you gave up the tap-dancing act."

Carmelita glared. "I have, and anyway, I don't dance anymore."

"Alright," Klaus said. "We heard that Violet is supposed to be in the area and I was just wondering if you've seen her."

"Violet, huh?" she said. "Hmm... Actually, I think I may have heard some-"

Carmelita suddenly stopped. She narrowed her eyes at something past Isadora's shoulder. "Wait a minute, who is that?"

She shoved Isadora aside. Standing there was Duncan, trying to hide his face behind his hat. Carmelita gasped.

"Duncan! I _knew_ it was you!" she said accusingly.

"Hello, Carmsy," Duncan feebly replied.

"Duncan Quagmire. Only an insensitive, two-timing, pig-faced, Cakesniffer such as yourself would have the _nerve_ to show his face around here after what you did!" she shouted at him, using her fan to smack him on the head with every insult.

"Ah, come on, Caramel Cake..." Duncan said.

"Don't you 'Caramel Cake' me!" she said. "I just can't believe you, you jerk!" Carmelita planted her hands on her hips. "Well? Where is she?"

"Who?" Duncan asked.

"'Who?' What do you mean 'Who?' I mean that Rosita Chiquita Anna Maria Garcia What's-her-face girl!"

"Oh!" Duncan said. "Was that her name?"

"Don't play stupid with me, Duncan!"

"Listen, Carmelita, I'm really sorry. It was only that one time!" he pleaded.

"Well you know what? One time can really matter Duncan, it really can!"

"Please forgive me...?"

"Forgive you?!" Carmelita cried. "How can I ever forgive you after what you did?"

"I followed you all the way to France, didn't I?" he offered.

Carmelita took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She seemed to consider it for a moment.

A man with a clipboard came up to her. "Carmelita, _les débuts d'exposition en cinq minutes._"

"_Oui, François,_" she replied.

"Listen, I got a show to do. I'll talk to you later," she said, and walked away.

Duncan stared after her for a long time. Then he turned back to his friends. Sunny's eyes were wide open, and Isadora and Klaus's jaws had dropped as they gawked at the scene.

He rolled his eyes. "Long story," he said flatly.

"Duncan Quagmire...and Carmelita Spats...?" Klaus inquired, disbelievingly.

"Hey Duncan, you know that's the second girl to hit you on the head with something today," Sunny said cheerily, still under the influence (of coffee, that is.) She grinned sheepishly when he shot her a look.

"Well... How about we go see what the show is like?" Isadora suggested.

"Yeah, let's go do that," Klaus agreed.

Sunny led the way to the tables, and Duncan trailed behind them.

"Things sure have been loopy lately," Isadora said, shaking her head.

"Loopiness is a way of life," Sunny stated, matter-of-factly.

"Right..." Klaus said.

. . .

_Dear Dairy,_

_We're back at the hotel, after a long night. It turns out Duncan has a "history" with Carmelita Spats, much to our surprise. Duncan is a lot quieter than he normally is._

_We decided to stay and watch the show anyway. Astonishingly, all those dance and song recitals Carmelita forced everyone to sit through actually did her some good. She's not a half-bad singer. She sang the classic, "Fly Me to the Moon." Despite the fact that the majority of the audience was French, everyone responded to the American song pretty well. _

_Before it was over, Isadora grabbed my wrists and pulled me out to the dance floor. I noticed her eyes were an amber color._

_She says she's worried about her brother. During the whole presentation, he kind of just stared into his drink. Even when Sunny pulled a quarter from behind his ear. _

_I can understand how he feels, but still... Over Carmelita Spats? _

_When we got back to the hotel, Sunny's eyes were drooping and she immediately flopped down on one of the beds and started snoring. That's the thing about caffeine. Keeps you awake during the day, but as soon as it wears off, it leaves you exhausted._

_Isadora laughed. "Reminds me of that time when we were kids. Quigley and I dared Duncan to drink the rest of Dad's brandy and he ended up passing out."_

_I laughed too. I haven't laughed for a while._

_I asked Isadora what Quigley was up to. She said that he was supposed to be in uncharted parts of Brazil, mapping out rainforests. They haven't heard from him in over a year though. She said he does that sometimes, but they always end up getting a letter or a package from him, eventually._

"_Too bad he isn't here," Isadora said. "I'm sure he'd love to see Violet."_

_That reminded me. We couldn't find Carmelita after the show. We'll have to go back and talk to her about Violet tomorrow._

_Boy, everything's been so weird. I'm in France, and it's to find my sister. Duncan's just been told off by an old girlfriend, and it's Carmelita Spats. And Sunny happens to be a friend of one of my old friends, someone she shouldn't remember._

_Yes, I'll have to agree with Sunny. Loopiness is a way of life._


	10. The F l o w e r s of E v i l

**Dear Reviewers:**

**Nny11: Glad I could make your day a little more unfortunate!**

**Powerof1P3PadfootsGrl: Thanks! I'm not sure who Ms. Garcia is either... I guess you'll have to figure it out yourself!**

**WonkaVision: "Caramel Cake," yes, that is kinda funny... I wasn't sure how well that would work because some people pronounce it "Car-a-mel" while "Car-mel" sounds more like "Car-mel-ita." I pronounce it car-mel, in case you weren't sure... But still, I think it's just funny that Duncan has a pet name for Carmelita!**

**Phoenix72389: I love to do that! Just when you start to get comfortable on the roller coaster, throw in another twist!**

**Animeomega: Yes, poor Klaus... I wish I could say that he's been living happily ever after, but, like Lemony says, "That is not how the story goes..."**

**MlynnBloom: Gracias, Merci, thank you, and however you say it in all those other languages!**

**QuigleyRules: Thanks also! And, yes, Quigley does rule! Sorry he hasn't been mentioned in the story much...**

**Lady Emily: I thank you again for the reward, and I hope I will live up to the name! If I get slow with updating, just say so and I'll give it back. ;)**

**NewbiaTheElf: Yep! Enough said.**

**Micartne: Thank you, and I will keep writing as long as you keep reading! ;)**

**VisualPurple: Yay! I'm so happy for you. Now onto the rest!**

**Sorry I didn't update this time as fast as I did with the others, but yesterday I tried writing, got halfway through, and my computer froze. I had to restart it, only to discover I didn't save the chapter! So, I had to rewrite it, and by the time I had gotten as far as I had before, it was late. And the day before that, I had a concert to go to, and the day before that, I just didn't have time. Yeah. So... Here it is, Chapter the Tenth!**

**P.S. I forgot to mention this in the last one: Thank you to Samantha from the Snicket Source for your "Loopiness" quote! I hope it's okay that I used it.**

Chapter 10: The F l o w e r s of E v i l

The next morning, they all met in Klaus's room for breakfast. They could have gone down to the café, but there were things they needed to discuss, things that didn't need to leave the hotel room.

The first matter was about Carmelita and the information she had on Violet.

"I didn't see her after the show," Isadora said. They had all gathered around the small table, on which a meager continental breakfast had been laid out. Sunny sat at the narrow desk, inspecting the typewriter.

"We should go back and ask around for her," Klaus said. "It sounded like she knew something."

Duncan was quiet.

Klaus glanced at Sunny. She was peacefully entertaining herself by pushing down keys and listening for the _ding_ that rang from the typewriter when she completed a row of words.

Isadora lowered her voice. "Do you guys think that maybe there's something Sunny hasn't told us? Maybe...something she didn't want to?"

Klaus blinked. He hadn't considered that. "What do you think she would have to hide?"

"It's been ten years, Klaus," Isadora said. "There's probably a lot she hasn't told us yet."

Klaus nodded and looked down. She was probably right. But he didn't want her to be. He was still trying to accept the fact that Sunny had spent the majority of her existence out of his life. He had wanted to be there, to be the big brother she needed. But here she was, a mature, intelligent young lady. It was as if she didn't need him after all.

There _was_ still a lot he didn't know about his own sister.

"Of course, there's probably a lot Violet hasn't told her to begin with," Isadora added.

Yes, Klaus thought. That could be correct also.

Duncan spoke up, although his voice was quiet. "When Quigley and I finally escaped from Olaf..." He didn't let his gaze leave the cup of coffee he held in his hands. "We should have gone back for them. We had the chance, we just..." Duncan shook his head regretfully.

"It wasn't your fault, Duncan," Klaus said. "Olaf was a tricky guy. It makes me wonder if he's still around..."

The three looked down. Count Olaf was never a very good conversation topic, and the very thought of him still being out there, hunting them down, sent chills up their spines.

Apparently, they hadn't been speaking quietly enough, because Sunny chimed in as if she had been part of the discussion the entire time. "Well, I'd just like to know why Duncan was down at the hotel café drinking coffee with Carmelita last night."

Duncan froze, cup halfway to his mouth, and looked up cautiously at his sister and Klaus. They blinked at him, waiting for him to come up with an excuse for not telling them in the first place.

"What, no one's wondering why she was up so late?" Duncan asked.

"I was thirsty."

"There's a sink in your room, you know."

Sunny stuck out her bottom lip. "Fine. I heard voices outside the door and I followed you. But if she knows where my sister is, eavesdropping could be considered necessary."

"Well?" Isadora said. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

Duncan took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I didn't bring it up because there isn't anything to tell. She didn't mention Violet. Carmelita wasn't the mood to talk about much. She just said that she thought someone was following her and she wanted to hang out until it was safe to go home."

"Oh..." Isadora said.

"Wait," Klaus interjected. "Someone was following her? What did he look like?"

Duncan shrugged. "Carmelita said she didn't get a good look at him but she knew he was tall and he was wearing a long coat and a hat."

Klaus's eyes widened.

"What is it Klaus?" Isadora asked.

Klaus looked back at Sunny, checking to see if she had gone back to amusing herself with the typewriter. He lowered his voice again. "Sunny and I saw that guy back at the train station," he said. "She thinks she's seen him somewhere before, like he's been following us."

"Following us?" Isadora asked, her eyes growing bigger. "But what could he want?"

The world was quiet for a moment. No one said anything, but the three were thinking the same thing.

Sunny.

. . .

Later, Klaus, Isadora, and Duncan went downstairs to the small diner that branched off from the lobby of the hotel. It was about lunchtime, and they had left Sunny in the room while they went to buy sandwiches. She seemed rather interested in the typewriter, and Klaus didn't want to tear her away from her new discovery.

Duncan was starting to revert back to his natural, slightly sarcastic self, and Isadora even laughed at the jokes he had already told about a hundred times, glad that her brother wasn't so unusually quiet anymore. He mentioned Carmelita often, and Klaus and Isadora could tell that part of him wasn't over her yet.

They were just about to go back up to the room when Isadora caught sight of someone out of the corner of her eye. He was running towards the stairs, and he had a large envelope tucked under his arm. Isadora's eyes widened when she saw him. She grabbed Klaus's wrist.

"It's him," she said.

Klaus whirled around. Tall. Long coat. And the hat.

It _was_ him.

Klaus broke into a run and raced up the spiral stairs after the man. He didn't know who he was. He didn't know if he was armed. He just knew that he had the answers to so many questions.

Finally, after stumbling over several long flights of stairs, he reached the right floor. The stranger had been far ahead of him, and when Klaus paused to rest at the top, he just barely caught a glimpse of the man ducking into a room with an open door.

Klaus's heart stopped. It was his room.

"Sunny!" Klaus screamed. He launched into a sprint down the hall.

Klaus came to an abrupt halt when he reached the doorway. He almost died with relief when he saw that Sunny was standing there, wide eyed and confused. In her hands was the envelope. The man was nowhere to be seen.

Sunny looked at Klaus. Her eyes were scared. _He followed us_, they seemed to say. _We aren't even safe here._

Slowly, Klaus approached his little sister. She silently held out the envelope to him. He opened it and pulled out the single sheet of paper that was tucked inside it.

_La gloire du soleil sur la mer ruban,_

_La gloire des cités dans le soleil couchant,_

_Allumaient dans nos coeurs une ardeur inquiète_

De plonger dans un ciel au reflet alléchant.

_Dans les planches d'anatomie_

_Qui traînent sur ces quais poudreux_

_Où maint machine à écrire cadavéreux_

Dort comme une antique momie.

"Can you read that?" Klaus asked, handing the paper over to Sunny.

She took it and looked over the words briefly. "Yes," she said. "Yes I can."

"I've read this somewhere before," Isadora said when she read the passage.

"What did it say again?" Duncan asked.

Sunny recited it:

"_The glory of sunlight upon the ribbon sea,_

_The glory of cities against the setting sun,_

Kindled in our hearts a troubling desire

_To plunge into a sky of alluring colors._

"_In the anatomical plates_

_That lie about on dusty quais_

_Where many cadaverous typewriters_

Sleep like an ancient mummy."

"Well what's that supposed to mean?" Duncan asked. "It doesn't even sound like they're from the same poem."

"That's because they aren't," Isadora said. "I recognize them. It's on the tip of my tongue, I just can't place it!"

"There's something strange about some of those words," Klaus noted. "'The glory of sunlight upon the ribbon sea.' That doesn't sound right."

"And 'Where many cadaverous typewriters sleep like an ancient mummy.' That's kind of weird also," Sunny added.

"Do you think it's a Verse Fluctuation Declaration?" Isadora asked.

"A what?" Sunny asked in return.

"It sounds like it," Klaus said, ignoring Sunny's question. He didn't want to lie again. "But that would mean that that guy was a..."

"...Volunteer," Duncan finished.

"A volunteer what?" Sunny asked, starting to become frustrated that nobody was answering her questions.

Suddenly, Isadora gasped. "I remember now!" she cried. "I remember where I read this!"

She dashed out the door to get something from her room. When she returned, she had a book in her hands. Klaus recognized it as the same book Isadora was reading on the train. "Les Fleurs Du Mal," she said.

The Flowers of Evil.

"'The glory of sunlight upon the violet sea... Where many cadaverous books sleep like an ancient mummy,'" Isadora read.

She shut the book and looked up at Klaus. He was staring past her, but not at any particular thing. Everyone could tell he was deep in thought.

Just two very significant words in Klaus's life.

Violet. Books.

But what in sanity's name could it mean?


	11. C l o s e r

**Dear Reviewers:**

**Morgaine of the Fairies: Ok, this is kinda embarrassing, but I got that "Rosita Chiquita Ana Maria Garcia" thing from the Chihuahua on "The Lady and the Tramp." My little sister was watching it and I thought it was funny how it all rhymed. I don't know if that's where you remember it from though. It probably isn't even exactly what he said, but that's where I got the idea. :)**

**Phoenix72389: I don't know if I'm saying too much, but you're closer than you think... ;)**

**NewbiaTheElf: How do I know? Because I'm the writer! Lol. No, actually, if you think about it, how would he know about Verse Fluctuation Declaration if he was in the Official F.D.?**

**VisualPurple: Yes, codes keep the world quiet...**

**Lady Emily: Don't worry! Updating now!**

**This one's a little shorter, but I'm trying to stretch it out so I have the right number of chapters. Enjoy!**

Chapter 11: C l o s e r

"_Klaus, hurry!"_

"_You're almost there!"_

"_Run, Klaus!"_

_Klaus ran._

_He had no idea where he was. It looked like night, but something was blinding him, like he was heading straight towards the sun. Straight towards a fire._

_His surroundings looked a bit like one of the crowded, gray avenues that threaded through the city he had called home. But it also looked like the street in front of the hotel, back in Paris. Or was he still in Paris? He squinted at the world around him. Everything, the part that was his home, and the part that was France, was blurring together, melting until it was all the same._

"_Klaus!"_

_The voice. It was Violet's. She was calling for him._

"_Klaus!" she said. "Wake up!"_

_Klaus woke up._

_He looked around again. He wasn't in his hotel room. But everything was strangely familiar. There were several bookshelves lining the walls, stocked with his favorite stories. A polished desk sat in the corner, and several stacked books were resting on it._

_Klaus sat up. Standing at the end of his bed was his older sister._

"_Violet!" he said. Klaus paused and put his hand to his throat. His voice. It was different. Younger, like he was a kid._

_Klaus looked at his hands. They were smaller, softer. He was a kid._

_He stared up at his sister, who was staring expectantly back at him. She was exactly like he remembered._

_Klaus's heart sank._

_He suddenly knew why everything was so recognizable. This was his room. He was back at the mansion. The mansion that was supposed to be a pile of dust and rubble. And this was Violet. Violet who shouldn't be 14 years old anymore._

_Klaus hadn't woken up. He was still dreaming._

"_A little early to be sleeping, isn't it?" she asked him._

"_Uh... Yeah, I guess," he answered._

"_You read too late at night. You're always tired the next day."_

_Klaus nodded, listening to sound of his sister's voice. He hadn't heard it in such a long time._

"_Well anyway, Mother and Father went to the opera, so I have to watch you and Sunny," she said. "I'm working on a device that should keep the TV reception from going out."_

"_Okay," Klaus replied absently._

"_If you need me, I'll be in the library," Violet said, turning and walking out the door._

_Klaus nodded, although he knew she wouldn't be able to see him anyway. He watched his sister's tall form shrink as she retreated farther and farther down the hallway._

Klaus's eyes shot open.

Violet. Books.

He bolted upright and scanned the room to make sure he was really awake. In his mind, Klaus repeated the words over and over again.

Violet. Books. Violet. Books.

The answer hit him with the force of a freight train.

"_If you ever need me, I'll be in the library."_

Of course.

Klaus snatched the small clock from the nightstand. It was a little after seven o'clock. The others probably weren't even awake yet.

He rushed over to the typewriter and tapped out a quick note:

I've figured it out. Gone to

Klaus paused. He didn't even know what library it was. He shrugged, deciding that he would check at every one in Paris until he found her.

That could take a while.

_I've figured it out. Gone to library. Be back as soon as I find Violet._

_Klaus_

His gaze fell back to the nightstand. Resting on it was Sunny's hair ribbon. Klaus picked it up and ran his thumb over the smooth satin.

_Maybe this was Violet's_, he mused.

He blinked, and corrected himself.

_Maybe this is Violet's._

Klaus smiled.

. . .

The smile was still on his face when he pushed open the door of the hotel and continued on down the street. It was pretty busy for being so early in the morning. People on bicycles zipped by, racing the speeding cars. Rain had begun to fall, and some individuals opened umbrellas or unfolded newspapers to shield themselves from it. But Klaus pulled off his glasses and tucked them into his pocket, letting the rain fall on his face. It felt nice.

He walked, not knowing if he was going in the right direction. He had a full morning ahead of him, so it wouldn't really matter where he went first anyway.

He was so close. Violet could be only two blocks away. His sister, who he hadn't seen in ten long years. So close.

"_Run, Klaus!"_

Klaus ran.

He finally stopped in front of an enormous, old, but very regal-looking building that could have been over a hundred years old. It had been transformed into one of the grandest libraries Paris had to present.

This was it. Somehow Klaus knew.

He pushed open the door and took another step closer to Violet.


	12. The V i o l e t H o u r

**Dear Reviewers:**

**WonkaVision: I can too end a chapter like that! I just did! Hehe, sorry... But anyway, thank you!**

**Powerof1P3PadfootsGrl: I'd just like to say that I can now type your name without having to go back and look at it! (Lol.) I guess that just proves what a great reviewer you are. Thanks!**

**Animeomega: Actually, believe it or not, I have never been to France and cannot speak French. I have Google . com's language tools and fleursdumal . org to thank for everything I've written that does not look like English. But I would love to go to France someday...**

**QuigleyRules: Thank you! I love writing this story. I'm glad that people out there are liking it!**

**Nny11: Yay! I love camp-outs! –Grabs a bag of marshmallows- Want one? o.O AAAAAH!!! Mine caught on fire!!!!! Sorry. I'm a little hyper today too.**

**NewbiaTheElf: Ok, I get what you mean. I don't remember reading that the bad side of the schism was called the O.F.D. though... But I understand what you're getting at. He helped him find Violet right? So I say he's good! There. ;)**

**Lady Emily: Ah, yes, a cliffhanger. Don't worry, I won't leave you hanging for too long!**

**MlynnBloom: Thank you! Yes, I spend too much time throwing the ends of my chapters off cliffs. All they can do is hang on until I write the next one... Ok, that joke was a tad cheesy. But anyway...**

**Phoenix728389: Yes! You did it! You guessed it right! YAY!!! I'll play a song for you to celebrate your keen observation skills! –Pulls out accordion and plays "Scream and Run Away"- Ok. Like I said before, I'm a bit hyper. And when did I learn to play the accordion?!**

**Anyway, I'd just like to say, once more, that I really really really appreciate your support! This story's getting closer to the end and I'd just like to say that it's you, my Dear Reviewers, who have kept me going! Thank you for sticking around!**

Chapter 12: The V i o l e t H o u r

At the violet hour, when the eyes and back

_Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits_

_Like a taxi throbbing waiting._

Klaus remembered the words as well as he remembered his sister's face. It was a part of a poem he had read many years ago, yet it was a part with vast significance. He repeated the words in his mind, summoning the courage to take another step across the expansive, polished floor.

The library was almost definitely the grandest Klaus had ever seen. Even the Baudelaire Library that was destroyed in the fire was not even half this size. Rows and rows of bookcases trailed down the length of the room. They all reached high up to the ceiling, and when Klaus looked up he could see that there were several more levels, all with a ledge overlooking the floor below it. The walls were lined with massive stained glass windows, each one with a crystallized painting depicting a scene from history, or from a classic tale, and you only had to look at one to feel like you were watching time unfold before you.

Klaus would have loved to go through every section of the library, pulling off the shelf any book he could have wanted. He would have given almost anything to be able to sit and read for hours, forgetting everything that had been haunting him for years on end. But no, now wasn't the time.

This was the Violet hour.

Klaus wandered through the library, gazing up at the highest shelves, contemplating how anyone could reach them. He let his fingers trace the swirls on the marble pillars as he walked by. He listened to the echo of his footsteps, listened to the sound of nothing. The world was quiet.

And then suddenly, it wasn't.

It was barely even a noise Klaus heard, more of just a vibration in the air his ear barely caught. Somebody else had to have made it. But as far as he knew, the library was empty. He hoped it was.

And he hoped it wasn't.

He took several silent steps towards a door sunken into the far wall. It was bordered with a tall iron frame, the kind that would have survived a fire. He put a hand on the cold, steel door handle, and paused. Klaus looked up at the iron frame once more. He had seen one like it a long time ago. Engraved on it were the words "_The World is Quiet Here._" The phrase on this one, however, was quite different, but just as familiar:

"_He Who Hesitates is Lost._"

Klaus looked back down at the handle, and told himself that as long as he waited, Violet would still be lost.

He couldn't afford to hesitate any longer.

Klaus pushed open the doors and took a quiet step in.

Again, he heard the noise, only now it was much clearer, and he could finally identify what it was. It was a sound Klaus had heard many times over the course of his unfortunate existence, a sound that only brought grief and misery. It was the sound he would hear whenever life was treating him horribly, and he was not eager to hear it again. But there was something about listening to it this time, something that drew him further inside the expansive room, another room lined with shelves and shelves of books that he didn't dare look at.

Somebody was crying.

There was only one stained-glass window in that room, but it was as tall and as wide as the wall that it bejeweled. On it was a picture of an angel, hands outstretched towards the heavens, ascending to her final home.

And kneeling before the window was a shivering, thin young woman, weeping like she was crying harder and more mournfully then she had ever cried before, as if her entire soul was pouring out in her tears. And amongst her sobs, only three words were discernable, and she repeated them over and over, as if the more she said it, the more she meant it:

"I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry..."

Klaus froze, and felt himself begin to tremble.

This couldn't be her. This couldn't be Violet. Violet who had been so strong; watchful Violet who had stood vigil over he and Sunny when the nightmares invaded. His sister, his hero.

Klaus stared at her back; her face buried in her hands, long, chocolate hair falling forward with each shudder the sobs brought on. Suddenly, Klaus was overwhelmed with pity.

This had to be Violet. Violet who had given up everything for them; devoted Violet who would have done anything for her siblings and received nothing in return. Violet who just couldn't take it anymore.

She abruptly stopped crying and looked up at the angel in the window. Violet sat sniffling for a few still moments, wiping the tears on her sleeve. Klaus opened his mouth to speak, but stopped cold when she stood up and pulled something out of her pocket.

Klaus's heart stopped. A gun.

She stood there, staring at the angel, not knowing that her brother stood horrified behind her.

Or so he thought.

Just when Klaus got close enough to make a grab for the gun, Violet spun around and leveled it to his forehead. "Who are you and what do you want?" she demanded.

Klaus halted, putting his hands up in the air. "I-I...uh...I just..." he stammered. He finally got a good look at her face. Now he was positive. The same soft chin that stuck out determinedly, the same pursed lips, the same green eyes, eyes that had lost their sparkle, eyes that were now fierce and haunted. "I didn't know you heard me," he said.

"You go through what I've been through and you start to hear things. Things you shouldn't hear." Violet narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "And see things..." she said, quieter.

"You aren't really going to shoot me, are you?" Klaus asked.

With a click, she cocked the gun, as if to answer his question.

Klaus didn't know what to do, or say, next. He could tell her who he was, but how did he know she would believe him? He could make something up, but, thinking about how hard it had been when he found his little sister, Klaus knew he didn't want to go through that again. He just had to say something.

"I have Sunny."

Violet's eyes widened and she let the gun fall to the floor. She began to tremble, and her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, please," she said, dropping to her knees. "Please don't hurt her. I'll do anything, I'll give you anything you want, just don't hurt her."

Violet buried her face in her hands, and Klaus felt guilt stab him in the heart as she began to cry again. "Please," she wept, "My Sunny...She's all I have left..."

And suddenly, everything became clear to Klaus.

Violet had thought he'd been dead all these years. She somehow managed to escape from Olaf but had never been able to shake the police. They were still wanted for the murder of Jacques Snicket, although Klaus knew very well that they had been framed. She and Sunny had probably lived the past ten years running from the authorities, trusting no one, going from home to home, seeking some sort of refuge. That explained why they were going to France.

And poor Violet... The weight of the world on her shoulders, hoping to do for Sunny what she could never do for Klaus...

"I don't want anything, Violet," he replied, taking her arm and helping her up. "I just came to tell you that she's safe and she can't wait to see you."

She wiped the tears off her face and eyed him suspiciously. "Who are you?"

Klaus sighed. He had changed much over the years. He remembered when he had to look up to see Violet's eyes, but now he towered over her. She was still tall for a young woman her age, but Klaus wasn't as short as he used to be. He guessed his face must have changed the most, because Violet was looking him in the eyes and she didn't seem to recognize him at all.

Suddenly, Violet started and whirled around, listening for something Klaus couldn't hear. He took the opportunity to pull his glasses from his pocket. That was probably the main reason why Violet saw him as a complete stranger. Before, you hardly ever saw Klaus without a book tucked under his arm. He needed his glasses to read, which meant you hardly ever saw him without his glasses. She had to remember that, had to remember him.

If she wasn't trying to forget.

"What is it?" he asked.

Violet shook her head, still looking for something off in the distance. "Nothing I guess. Just thought I heard someone," she murmured.

She turned and looked at him. Her eyes grew wide.

Yes, Klaus thought. That did it.

Violet stood, stock-still, searching his face for an answer to the question that was written all over her face.

"Violet..." Klaus whispered.

She put a hand over her mouth, an expression of fear, confusion and disbelief beginning to cloud her eyes.

"It's me, Violet," Klaus said.

Slowly, she shook her head. Once again, tears began to drip down her cheeks. "No... No, it can't be..."

"But it is!" Klaus choked, his voice cracking on the last word. He pulled out Sunny's hair ribbon. "This is yours, isn't it?"

She silently took the ribbon and ran her finger over the smoothness of it. She looked up at him and shook her head again, refusing to accept it.

"But you're dead!" Violet cried. "I saw you! You were dead!"

"Violet don't you get it?" Klaus asked her, hot tears stinging his eyes. "I've been alive this whole time, I've been looking for you! It's me, Violet, it's really me!"

Violet bit her lip and took a few hesitant steps towards her brother. She inspected his face closely, more tears brimming in her dark, sad, eyes. Then she stepped back and her mouth dropped open.

"Oh my..." she whispered. "You _are_ Klaus."

Klaus nodded, and he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. It was the feeling you get when you walk into a strange, untried place, and you see someone you know, someone who can help make the experience less frightening. It was like the world was out to get him, and finally he had found something familiar. It was the feeling Klaus was experiencing now, when Violet buried her face in his chest and began to cry, and when he felt tears running down his own face. And Klaus couldn't help but drift back to his childhood, back to a memory that wouldn't leave him.

Klaus, Sunny, and Violet were at the beach, and the sky was cold and gray. Violet was skipping stones in the water; her hair tied up in a ribbon, like it always was when she was thinking up an invention. Sunny was playing in the sand and biting a rock, testing to see whether or not it was too hard for her teeth. And Klaus was examining some tiny fish swimming around in a small tide pool, trying to remember what he had read about them.

"_Your parents have perished in a terrible fire..."_

It had been so long ago, yet seeing Violet made it seem like only the day before.

Klaus smiled to himself. He and his sisters would straighten this mess out. Maybe their lives would finally go back to normal. Maybe it will all be perfect again.

Klaus held his sister tight, as if he thought he might lose her again, and wept like he hadn't wept since he was a boy.


	13. H o m e w a r d B o u n d

**Dear Reviewers:**

**MlynnBloom: I'm so happy that you're so happy! Thank you so much!**

**WonkaVision: Aw...There, there. –Pulls out a box of Kleenex- Thank you for reading!**

**QQuagmire: Wow, thanks! I love to build up the suspense. It makes it...suspenseful.**

**Arden C. Evans: The Baudelaires deserve a happy ending. This story won't be as unfortunate at the end, I'm glad to say. And I'm thinking of writing another fic in the form of Sunny's diary, about what happened after, so a sequel is very possible...**

**Lady Emily: Yay! I feel like dancing too! –Does a dance while playing "Scream and Run Away" on the accordion- Wow, that's hard to do! **

**NewbiaTheElf: Thanks! And I noticed that the first line isn't italicized. It was in italics on my word processor when I wrote it, but somehow it got "lost in translation"...**

**Phoenix72389: Aw, here's a tissue for you. We are getting closer to the end, but don't worry, this chapter isn't the last. And, like I said a while ago, Sunny will find out soon enough...**

**SaturnStorm: Wow, thank you! I try my best...**

**Powerof1P3PadfootsGrl: Oh boy, I'm gonna start running out of Kleenex! Here you go. Thank you very much!**

**I'd just like to say (as I've said countless times before) that without you guys, there wouldn't be any story. I signed on today and looked at the reviews and I couldn't help grinning like an idiot, I was so glad that you are enjoying it. So, thank you everybody!**

Chapter 13: H o m e w a r d B o u n d

"...And so a few years ago, I decided to become a private investigator. But, you know, nobody really wants to hire a kid, so it's been more of a part-time job," Klaus said. "I'm hoping to be a writer someday."

Violet sighed. "Wow. So much has happened," she said.

The two walked down the steps in front of the library's entrance. Klaus couldn't help but agree. A lot _had_ changed. And he still didn't know what half of it was. He hoped they would be able to talk about most of it on the way back to hotel.

It was early afternoon by the time they left, and there were more crowds, tourists and residents alike scrambling to get to their destinations. Cars honked their horns and people shouted, mostly in French. The siblings didn't notice much of it though; too much was on their minds.

Violet suddenly stopped. Klaus turned and found her staring at something across the street. He followed her gaze.

There, leaning against a signpost, was a man wearing a long coat. He was tall, and he had his hat pulled down so the brim covered his face. It was the same man Klaus had seen at the train station. It was the same man who had followed them all the way to France. And it was the same man who had helped Klaus find his sister.

Violet smiled slightly and waved at him. Klaus's jaw dropped when the man reached up with a gloved hand, pulled off his hat, and waved back at them. But he was not surprised that the man knew Violet. He was surprised that he recognized the man's face.

"It's...It's..." Klaus stammered. "It's Fernald."

Violet nodded. Fernald smiled, turned, and walked away.

"But... But his hands..."

"...Are mechanical," Violet said. "I asked him if he could find Sunny for me, so I did him a favor."

"Which is why he was following us," Klaus realized. "So that means that you're still an inventor?"

Violet shrugged. "From time to time, when the occasion calls for it."

The two turned and started walking again. "Fernald helped us escape from Olaf. He was planning on leaving the troupe himself, after...you know...after what happened to Fiona..."

Klaus looked down at his feet and nodded sadly.

"I thought Sunny was right behind me." Violet shook her head. "I should have been more careful. We couldn't turn the ship around, after so many people began to suspect that I was on it. So I contacted Fernald and asked him to keep an eye on her."

She stopped and looked at her brother. "But I guess someone else has been doing a fine job," she said, her eyes smiling. Violet sighed deeply and tried not to start crying again. "I can't believe I didn't get to watch you grow up."

Klaus stared at the ground. She wasn't the only one who regretted being apart from a younger sibling for so long. He started walking, trying to figure out what he was going to say next.

"Sunny doesn't know who I am." It was more like a question than a statement.

Violet looked down also, searching for an explanation. "Klaus..." She sighed. "Well you see... A long time ago," she began, as if she were telling a bedtime story, "I made a promise to Mother and Father." Violet fiddled with her ribbon, which she had taken out of her pocket. "I told them that I would take care of you and Sunny, that I would always protect you since I was the oldest."

She turned and walked backwards, so she could look at him while she spoke. "When they told me you were dead, I felt like I had failed in everything I was meant to do. I was your big sister, I was supposed to watch out for you, but you ended up dead anyway! Or at least I thought you did. But still... I wanted to tell Sunny. I really did. She asked me over and over who you really were, but I couldn't tell her, Klaus."

Violet halted and stared straight into his eyes. "It hurt too much."

Klaus stared back. He realized he understood completely what she was saying, and that there wasn't a spark of anger or regret in him. He thought back to the many times when he had tried to remember his sisters, how hard it was. It hurt him too.

"You'll tell her now though, right?" he asked.

Violet hooked her arm around his. "Of course I will."

They continued walking in silence, pondering everything that had occurred. Klaus almost couldn't believe what was happening, almost convinced himself that he was dreaming again. Over the course of his sad and miserable life, so much misfortune had befallen he and his sisters. He was used to tragedy, he knew what grief was almost better than he knew his way through his way through a library. Everything was going so perfectly, and he expected it to go wrong at any moment. Maybe when they got back to the hotel they would discover that Sunny had gone missing, or maybe that the police had tracked them down and were arresting her and the Quagmires at that very moment.

But when they arrived at the hotel, everyone was still there, anxious to see if Klaus had found his sister.

"Violet!" Sunny cheered when they entered the lobby.

"Sunny!" Violet cried, kneeling and scooping her up in her arms. "Oh, Sunny, I'm so sorry. I thought you were right behind me. I didn't mean to leave you." She hugged her sister tightly before stepping back to look her in the eyes. "Were you scared?"

Sunny grinned and shook her head. "No, I wasn't scared. Just like you taught me."

Violet smiled gently. "Just like I taught you," she whispered.

Sunny looked down and bit her lower lip. "Violet," she said quietly, "I'm really sorry, but I lost your ribbon."

Violet stood up and held out the ribbon. "No you didn't. Klaus had it."

Sunny let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Klaus," she said.

Klaus nodded quietly, wishing more than anything he could be a part of the family reunion. But he couldn't, not yet. Sunny would find out soon enough.

"You keep it," Violet said, tying it into a bow in Sunny's hair. "Take good care of it."

"I will," she promised. Then her face lit up. "Violet, lean closer," Sunny ordered.

Puzzled, Violet obeyed. Klaus grinned.

"Hmm..." Sunny mumbled, inspecting her face closely. "Well, would you look at that!" She reached behind Violet's ear and pulled out a coin. "A quarter! You really shouldn't have. But thanks anyway!"

Violet beamed, shaking her head. "I can only guess who you've been hanging around," she said.

"Somebody mention me?"

Violet straightened and turned. Duncan was standing there, his trademark smirk on his face, along with Isadora, whose eyes were smiling. For a moment, Violet could only stare, amazed to see her two friends.

And, to put it simply, the rest of the day was spent in a way that Klaus hadn't experienced in a while. It was hard to get through a conversation that recounted the missed years without somebody beginning to cry, somebody who was mostly Violet. She had felt so shut out, like she and Sunny had skipped the last decade, and everyone else knew what was going on and she didn't. Even Klaus couldn't help but let his eyes get teary from time to time.

Sunny couldn't help but wonder why no one mentioned her brother.

Finally, when evening drew near, everyone's thoughts turned to the prospect of returning home. They didn't want to think about how they would clear Violet and Sunny's names. They didn't want to think about where they would live. They didn't want to think about all that lay ahead. But everybody knew that they would leave Paris soon. Everybody knew they couldn't stay forever.

In the stillness of that quiet moment of knowing, Sunny started humming. Klaus thought he recognized the tune.

_Homeward bound,_

_I wish I was,_

_Homeward bound,_

_Home where my thought's escaping,_

_Home, where my music's playing,_

_Home, where my love lies waiting,_

_Silently for me. _

Klaus glanced at the calendar. December 23rd.

They'd be home for Christmas.


	14. E p i l o g u e

**Dear Reviewers:**

**Ed the Giant Raccoon: Thank you! I am thrilled. And I really liked your story. I'm thinking about writing a Fernald fic too...**

**VisualPurple: It ain't over yet...**

**NewbiaTheElf: Well, the whole quarter behind the ear thing was mostly just to show that Sunny is starting to act a little less like a fugitive running from the law and a little more like a normal kid. And, since she is a kid, she probably didn't worry about Violet as much as Violet worried about Sunny. Leave the emotion to Violet, lol.**

**Nny11: Now, that's when! And how long have you been hiding all those marshmallows?**

**Lady Emily: Yes it is sweet. And it is about time Klaus told Sunny. That's why I'm writing this chapter! ;)**

**Arden C. Evans: I'm not too sure what really happened to Fiona; my research is inconclusive. Maybe if I ever get around to writing that Fernald fic I'll find out...**

**MlynnBloom: Yay! –Considers pulling out her accordion but thinks better of it- I'm sure you're all getting tired of "Scream and Run Away."**

**Phoenix72389: I think I got the number at the end of your name wrong on one of the recent chapters...Oh well. Sorry! Anyway, I love Christmas too! 1: Because of all the presents. 2: Because the Lemony Snicket movie is coming out on the 17th of December!!!**

**QQuagmire: No, she didn't know in the last chapter, but she will in this one!**

**Thank you everybody! This is the last chapter of "After All: By K. Baudelaire," but remember, that doesn't mean you've seen the last of me! So here it is, as I promised you:**

Chapter 14: E p i l o g u e

It doesn't feel right for me to end this story with thirteen chapters. You may have read the sad tale of my and my sibling's childhoods, written by a man named Lemony Snicket. He truthfully captured the tragedy of that part of my life, and, whether it was when Count Olaf was pursuing us, or maybe when we were first delivered the news of that terrible fire, he ended each volume with thirteen chapters.

I feel that now, the tables have finally turned, and turned for the better. So here I present to you an extra chapter, an epilogue, giving you a taste of what my life was like after I was reunited with my sisters.

Isadora has a magnificent house. It has three floors, a stately dining hall, an inviting parlor, and many other rooms. But I'd have to say my favorite room was the one with the Wall of Remembrance.

It was really just an idea we came up with when she first bought the house. We were unpacking her things, and we came across some old photographs, ones that had been taken a long time ago and were nearly forgotten.

Isadora, being the poetic person she is, started going on and on about how she wished she had some way to remember everything that had occurred over the years and how she wanted to be able to look at all the pictures whenever she wanted. So we chose a wide, blank, white wall and hung some of the old pictures on it.

Over the years, the wall, which Isadora fondly named the Wall of Remembrance, accumulated more and more photos, each one depicting a certain moment in time. Today, there are more pictures than I could count. Well, I could probably count them; it's just that I don't really want to take the time to number them all. I have more important things on my mind now.

But still, I found myself staring at that wall that one day, after we got back from France.

It was in the evening, when our Christmas party was over and everyone had begun to wind down. There wasn't much fuss over having a big celebration. No one had thought of buying presents to exchange. I didn't mind though. I had all I needed.

My eyes fell on a portrait of Isadora. She looked very pretty. I had bought one present: A necklace for Isadora, like I had promised myself I would. She really liked it. I think so because she threw her arms around my neck and begged me to help her put it on. It made her even prettier, if I do say so myself.

There were several other pictures I paid special attention to. One was a clipping from _The Daily Punctilio_, the photograph that was printed when our faces first appeared in the newspapers. "Baudelaire Butchers" they called us. I shook my head, glad that Duncan was currently working on another story that could change the authorities' minds about us.

There was a small group of photographs that Isadora had lined up in a special way. It was the part of the Wall that was used for pictures of those who were no longer alive. I didn't look at them often; sometimes it hurt too much. There was a portrait of the Quagmires' parents, right next to a smaller picture of mine. There were various photographs of different Volunteers, those who had gone missing in action, and those who had given up their lives for the greater good. To the lower right, there was a photo of my dear friend Fiona, a slight smile curling up her lips, eyes shining behind her glasses. Next to her, there was a picture of Jacques Snicket, and underneath him were portraits of Aunt Josephine, Uncle Monty, and Olivia, who was sometimes known as Madame Lulu. I'm sure there were many more people we did not have pictures of, but I guess it's a good thing that we didn't.

Once again, I pulled a small book out of my pocket. Inside it I kept several photographs of my own. Flipping to the picture of my sisters and I playing in the snow, I held it at arm's length, closing one eye and searching for a spot on the Wall it would fit into; the first side, not the part devoted to the Dearly Departed. It was about time I stopped keeping the past hidden in a closed book.

I heard small, quiet footsteps behind me. I didn't have to look to know that Sunny had walked in. Staring at her tiny self in the old photograph, I could just imagine her now, marveling at the many pictures hanging on the wall.

I turned around and casually stuck my hands in my pockets, waiting for her to speak. There was something different about her demeanor; she wrung her hands nervously and looked down at the floor, seeming to want to say something but not knowing how to.

Sunny glanced over her shoulder. I followed her gaze. Standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, was Violet. There was a certain smile on her face, the first real Violet-grin I had seen in a decade. She stared at Sunny expectantly.

I was surprised when I felt two thin arms wrap around my waist. Looking down at Sunny, I put a hand on her head, still somewhat puzzled.

"I always kinda figured," she said, her voice muffled by my thick jacket. "Always kinda hoped I had a big brother like you."

Violet was still beaming when I looked back up at her. I suddenly understood. Sunny knew. She now knew that I was Klaus Baudelaire, her long-lost brother who wasn't quite so long-lost anymore.

Soon, Violet was at my side, and mentally, I placed that picture of us three, finally standing there as a family again, on the Wall of Remembrance.

There is a new photograph of my sisters and I on that wall now. It is a very recent one. We are at the beach, and the sun is shining. Sunny is grinning widely; all her teeth are showing. Violet's hair is tied up neatly in a ribbon, and she is smiling also. I'm not facing the camera in that picture. I'm looking ahead, at the blue waves, the seagulls soaring in the air, and at the future. The past is behind me.

Maybe I'll get that happy ending after all.

With all due respect,

K. Baudelaire


End file.
